


What You Put Into the World

by Emmylou



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, And sometimes smoke pot, Developing Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingering, Friends and family('real' and original), Hey look it's Tom Hiddleston, Light BDSM, Light dom/sub but not all the damn time, Oh and sometimes it's even funny, Oral Sex, POV Original Female Character, Romance, Spanking, They're grown-ups so, basically all the sex, they drink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 415,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1837888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmylou/pseuds/Emmylou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kai moves to the UK and meets her celebrity crush.  Of course she does, because otherwise it's just a story about a woman who likes gardening and motorcycles.<br/>**Don't let the word count put you off.  Just read one chapter.  One little chapter.  What could possibly go wrong?**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I had intended to write another smutty little bit of fluff, with maybe a motorcycle ride or some such thrown in. This one got completely away from me and the next thing I knew was almost 5000 words. I'm fairly sure this is Chapter One. I hope you enjoy it.

What You Put Into the World

 

Three years ago, when I turned 36, I had an epiphany.  I was working in a stable but boring job, was in a stable but boring relationship and I had let myself get fat.  So, I made some changes.  I broke up with Daniel.  I got a student loan and finished my horticultural certification.  And along the way, I realized that excitement and happiness were the best diet in the world.  I promised myself I’d never let myself fall into that kind of trap again.  I even got the word “Action” tattooed on the inside of my right wrist, to remind myself to always keep moving forward.

I had long been an obsessive Anglophile.  My favourite books, movies, T.V. shows were all British.  And English gardens are legendary.  It seemed a perfectly logical decision. People said I was nuts to move to the UK in January, but I wanted to spend Christmas with my family.  And anyway, I grew up on the West Coast of Canada, so was used to long, dark, rainy winters.  January was only half a year ago, but now seemed a distant memory.  Finding a job, renting a flat, trying to learn my way around the huge city all helped to make the time pass quickly. 

It was Friday afternoon.   I was redesigning a property for a wealthy couple and I’d finished weeding the vegetable garden a bit earlier than expected, so I drove through the neighbourhood to a nice pub I’d discovered earlier in the week.  I parked my bike and claimed a table in the sun.  I pulled off my leather jacket and helmet and twisted my long hair up into a knot to disguise the helmet head, then went inside to order a pint of India Pale Ale from Robbie, the sweet and very friendly bartender.  Back to my seat in the sun, I pulled a book out of my backpack and settled in to read and enjoy my pint.

I heard a motorcycle and looked up.  A tall, nicely built man had just parked his Honda and was standing, looking over my bright yellow Ducati.  It was an impressive looking machine and I was used to other motorcycle enthusiasts admiring it.  He walked into the pub.

I had my feet up on my backpack and was basking in the heat of the late afternoon sunshine, sipping my beer and reading when I became aware that there was someone standing beside me.  A typically British apology interrupted me.

“Pardon me, I’m awfully sorry to disturb you, but Robbie says that Ducati parked out front is yours.”

I love the way Brits pronounce Ducati; “Dew-catty”.

I looked up and felt the blood drain from my face.  Benedict Fucking Cumberbatch was standing at my table.  I forced myself to take a breath, hoping I didn’t look like a fish gasping for air.

“Yeah,” I managed to get out, “It’s mine.”

He smiled, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners.  Sweet Jesus, I thought, he’s beautiful.

“Do you mind if I ask you about it?”

A thousand words ran through my head but I was having trouble making any of them come out of my mouth.  I looked down to set my book on the table, and caught sight of the tattoo on my wrist.  “Action”.  OK, I thought, smarten up, you can do this.

“Please.”  I said, pushing out the second chair with the toe of my boot.

“You’re sure?” he asked, “I’m not bothering you?”

Oh, I was bothered all right.  In the best possible way.

“I’m reading and drinking beer by myself.  Bother away.”  I said with a smile.

He grabbed the chair and turned it around backward, then swung his leg over the seat and sat, leaning over the chair back and setting his beer on the table.  He stuck out his hand and said,

“I’m Ben.”

I grinned.

“Yes.”  I said.  “I’m Kai.”  I shook his hand.  I was suddenly, acutely aware that I had gardener’s hands.  The nails quite short, the skin rough.  And, having come straight to the pub from work, they were perhaps not as clean as I’d have liked.  His hands were large and elegant.  And clean.

“Kai.”  He said in that remarkable rumbly voice.  “That’s lovely.”

“Thank you.  It’s Polynesian.  It means ocean.”  All I could think was _say it again_.  Oh hell, and now I was blushing.

“And your accent?” he asked.

Even after half a year it still strikes me as funny that here, I’m the one with the accent.

“Canadian.” 

“And what are you doing here?  If it’s not terribly presumptuous of me to ask.”

“I needed a change,” I said, smiling.  “So I made one.  Or several actually.”

“Anyway,” I prompted, changing the subject, “my Ducati?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning forward eagerly, “how do you like it?”

I could talk about motorcycles forever.  I’d been riding since I was a kid, starting with dirt bikes with my Dad and brother.  My Dad taught us both how to build and repair our own bikes and we both raced BMX competitively through high school.  My brother still loves dirt biking, but for me road bikes have taken over.  I’m a bit of a speed demon.  When I moved to the UK, a motorcycle was a no-brainer.  They’re cheaper than cars and in the city, much more convenient; easy to park and more manoeuvrable in London’s god awful traffic.  I rode a Ducati Streetfighter 848.  It was fast and handled beautifully.  I loved it.  As I talked about the bike, he would interject, asking technical questions about weight and speed and handling.  I had a brainwave.  I dug my keys out of my jeans pocket.  Dangling the ring on my finger, I held it out to him.

“Here.”  I said, “Take it for a spin.”

“What?  I couldn’t possibly.”  He was looking at me as though I were mad.

“Why not?  You know motorcycles.  You ride.  And you know you want to.”

“But you don’t even know me.”

I snorted.  “Yes, but I know who you are.  You’re hardly going to steal it.”

Suddenly his face lit up and with a grin, he asked, “Are you quite sure?”

I smiled back.  “The A1 is 10 minutes away.  Go.”

He grabbed the keys and reached down under the table to where he’d stashed his helmet. 

“Back in a half hour.”  And with that, he grabbed the keys and headed off.  

I watched him exit the front door of the pub.  He settled his long frame onto the Ducati and pulled his helmet on before turning the key.  The bike started up with a purr.  He turned and grinned at me, looking like an excited kid then waved at me before flicking his visor down and pulling away.  I could hear the whine of the engine fading in the distance as he headed for the motorway.

I went inside, heading for the bathroom.  I looked at myself in the mirror.  I’ve always had a young face.  I was routinely asked for ID into my late 20’s when buying alcohol.  Working outside means that I have tons of freckles that match the naturally pale skin and red hair of my Scottish ancestry.  The only make up that I wear on a day to day basis is mascara, because my lashes are a bit pale.  I had a streak of dirt on my forehead where I must have wiped my grubby hand across my face at some point earlier.  Jesus.  I actually meet my celebrity crush, and I have a dirty face and I’m wearing a dirty tank top and dirty jeans with my hair tied into a messy knob on top of my head.  Fucking perfect.  I washed my hands, wiped the dirt off my face and went back out to the bar.  I ordered another beer.  As I tried to hand a 10 pound note to Robbie, he waved it off. 

“He says your money’s no good here.  I’m to put it on his tab.”

“Huh.  Too bad I’m driving, I could get properly snockered!”

Robbie laughed as I went back out to my table and picked up my book.

I lost track of time reading.  Sometime later my ears pricked up at the sound of the bike approaching.  He parked, hopped off and came out onto the patio carrying his helmet with a look of exhilaration on his face.

“Wow!  That is quite a ride!  It’s really different from mine.”

Looking over to where his bike was parked, I said,

“Yeah, well…they’re not really the same animal at all, are they?”  I went on, “Mine weighs about 20 kilos less, but has more than 50 more horses and 10 more foot pounds of torque.”

His eyebrows shot up.  “Not that it’s a competition.” He said.

“No.  Clearly there is no competition.”  I said with a cheeky grin.  “Mind you, over longer distances you’d be much more comfortable than I would.”

“Comfortable?”  He asked.  “The big selling point for my bike is comfort?  Not exactly Easy Rider territory is it?”

I was laughing now.

“Seriously though, I really can’t believe you’d just hand over the keys like that.  I do appreciate it.”

“I’m a firm believer that you get back what you put into the world.”

He was looking at me, a sort of reflective expression on his face.

“On that note,” he asked, “Can I get you a drink?”

The human brain is an amazing thing.  My first thought was that he wanted to stay and have a drink with me; my second, that if I had another drink I’d have to leave my bike here and take a cab home.  I was also considering that he was, if anything, better looking in person, that I couldn’t believe this was happening and that I was indeed blushing again.  All of which took less than a second as I heard myself say,

“Yes please.  IPA.”

For more than an hour, we sat and drank and smoked and talked.  The sun had dipped below the houses and I’d put my jacket back on.  He seemed happy enough to talk about himself; to answer what I asked, but he was also very curious.  He asked more questions about how I’d ended up in the UK.  I explained about the early mid-life crisis and how I’d realized that if I was really going to change my life I needed to change everything, no half measures.  Which led to a long discussion about fear and insecurity and how I’d never, ever let those be my guiding forces again.  That I’d gone from blithely letting my life happen to realizing that I needed to take some control.  Take action.   I got pretty worked up.

“You’re quite fierce, aren’t you?”  He observed, with a small smile.  “Frankly I’m a bit surprised that someone like you would ever play it safe.”

“Well it doesn’t happen all at once, does it?”  I asked.  “It’s a war of attrition.  Little bits of you get chipped away.  By crappy relationships.  Shallow friendships.  Boring jobs.  Until slowly, there’s less and less of the real you left to care.   And only if you’re really, really lucky, you wake the fuck up.  And you realize that you’re not willing to settle.  Not for any of it.  And that’s the only way to get yourself back.  Reverse the attrition.  One little thing at a time, until one day, you look in the mirror and realize that you’re seeing the real you.  Maybe for the first time in your life. “

I had tears in my eyes.  My hands were balled into fists on the table.  This wasn’t something I ever talked about.  This was personal.  The two women at the table next to ours were staring.  He reached out and put his hand over mine.  He stared back at the women until they looked away.

“So you make a choice.”  He said, his hand still on mine.

“Yes.  To grab your life by the throat.  Not content just to exist, but to really live.”  I answered.

“The life less ordinary.”  He said, frowning a bit.

“Exactly.”  I said.

“Would you like to get out of here?”  He asked.

“If I said no now, I’d be a total hypocrite.”  I said, looking up into his suddenly amused face.  “But I can’t ride my bike; I’ve had three – no, four pints of beer.”

“Do you mind riding pillion?”

I pictured myself sitting on the back of his bike with my arms around him and it cheered me immeasurably.

“No.  Don’t mind at all.”

It was only a 10 minute drive from the pub to his front door.  I followed him up the stairs to his flat. 

“Come in.”  He said, hanging his jacket on the back of a kitchen chair.  I pulled my boots off and followed him into the sitting room, tossing my jacket on top of his. 

“Would you like a glass of wine?  Or…?”  Leaving it up to me.

“Whiskey?”  I asked.

He poured two and as he passed me a glass, we both noticed my hand was shaking.  I glanced at him and grinned. 

“I’m playing it cool.”  I said, taking a sip.

“Well, obviously.”  He said, amused.  “Come and sit with me.”

We went to the couch and sat.  Neither of us spoke.  We just sat, looking at each other.  I watched him as his eyes scanned my face.  I felt him lean closer and my heart started to race.

“I’m going to kiss you.” He said.

“I’m going to kiss you back.”  I said.

He chuckled.  Then he leaned over and our lips met.  I heard him make a sort of speculative humming sound and I quickly turned my head as I burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry!”  I said, doubling over.  “But that sound…you sounded like you were, I don’t know, deciding if a melon was ripe or something!”

 “Do you pretty much always say whatever you’re thinking?”  He was smiling, but he also looked a bit embarrassed.

“Actually, yes.  Yes, I do have that tendency.”

“While I admire your honesty, in this case it was a bit…emasculating.”

“Oh god, I am sorry.  Emasculating you was absolutely, one hundred percent not my intent.”  I took his hand and raised it to my mouth.  Placing a light kiss on the backs of his fingers, I looked up at him.

“Forgive me.”

He stared hard into my eyes.

“Hmmm,” He hummed, daring me to laugh.  “Let me think.”

I bit my tongue.  His hand came up and cradled my chin.  He came forward, lightly resting his lips on mine.  I put my hand on top of his, ran it up his solid forearm.  His lips opened and the tip of his tongue flicked along my upper lip.  He sucked my lip between his, pushed his tongue into my mouth, exploring.  I moved closer, my left hand making its way to his shoulder while my right dropped to his thigh.  His mouth moved across my cheek to my neck and down to the strap of my shirt.  He gently bit my trapezius as he slid his arms around my back and untucked my shirt.  My hands went up to the opening of his shirt.  I slid one finger down his neck, and undid one button.  He watched me.  I leaned in and kissed the top of his chest.  I undid another button, and then another and another until his shirt lay open.  He rose up to his knees and pulled his shirt tail out of his jeans, then slipped it off.  I trailed my fingers over his flat belly and slipped one behind the button of his jeans.  He reached over, grabbing the bottom of my tank and pulling it up over my head, in the process snagging my loose bun so my hair fell down my back.

“Kai.” He said, putting his hands in my hair and pulling me to him.  The first moment of skin on skin was like an electric shock.   The heat of him against me took my breath away.  He ran his hands up my back, looking for the clasp on my bra.

“Wait, just a sec.”  I said, my heart pounding.  “Can we…do you mind…can we go to the bedroom?”

“Of course we can.  Is everything alright?”  He was confused by my sudden hesitation.

I put my hands on his waist and took a deep breath.

“I told you I’d made a lot of changes in my life, right?”  I said.

He nodded, saying nothing, giving me time to get there myself.

“I used to be fat.  Not chunky.  Not pleasantly plump.  Fat.  It changed things about my body that no matter how much weight I’ve lost will never be the same.  I’m just not comfortable being naked with all the lights on.  I’d feel better in the bedroom.”  I said apologetically.

He stood, taking my hand and led me up the stairs and down the hall to the bedroom.

“Sit down.” He said gently.  “I’ll be right back.”

I heard him run down the stairs and a moment later, back up again.  He came in and shut the door behind him.  Lighting a single candle, he set it on top of a dresser beside the door and turned off the overhead light.  Walking over to sit on the bed next to me, he said,

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Is this dark enough?”

I smiled up at him in the low, flickering light.

“If it were any darker, I couldn’t see you and that would never do.  I think you’re beautiful too.”

“Thank you.”  He stood, reaching for my hands, pulling me up against him.  He slipped my hands up behind his neck then ran his hands down my arms, along my ribs to sit at my waist.  And now, for the first time, he really kissed me.  His mouth opened, his tongue sweeping mine, he slipped his fingers into my belt loops, pulling my hips against him.  He kissed along my cheek to my ear.  Nipping my earlobe he whispered softly,     

“Lovely.” 

I sighed and ran my hands up his back, kneading the long muscles with my fingers. 

I felt his hands move to my bra.

“O.K?”

I nodded,

“Yes, please.”

He unhooked the clasp and slid the straps down my arms and dropped it to the floor.  His hands moved up to cup my breasts, lifting them as his head ducked down to suck a hard nipple into his mouth.  I felt his tongue sweeping it as his fingers pulled at the other.  I softly ran my hands through his hair, pulling him closer.  He switched sides, his fingers rolling the slippery nub as his teeth nipped at the other.  I moved my hands to his waistband, popping the button open and pushing the zipper down.  I slipped my hands inside, along his hips into the top of his boxers and began to push them down.  His lips were back on mine as I pulled the front of his pants out away from his growing erection.  I pushed them down and he stepped out of them, stepping on the toes of his socks and pulling them off, one at a time.  I couldn’t help it, I laughed. 

“Shut up you.  Don’t distract me.”

“Wouldn’t think of it.  Do carry on.”

He picked me up and dropped me on the bed.  In the dim candlelight as he stood over me, naked, he was magnificent.  He knelt between my legs and undid my jeans, leaning over and kissing a line from my throat to my belly button.  He sat back on his haunches and very deliberately pulled my socks off.

“I dare you.”   He said.

I shook my head.  He grinned.  He took my waistband in both hands and I lifted my hips as he pulled my jeans and underwear down.  It took all my control not to put my hands down to cover my stomach, the skin not flat and smooth like I would have wished, but marked and soft.  I saw his penis jump and bounce against his belly.  He very, very gently ran his palm over my abdomen, and then bent to kiss the skin below my navel.  He worked his way lower, slowly pushing my thighs further apart as he lay down between my legs.  His head dipped, his tongue sliding between my labia, searching for my clit.  He sucked it between his teeth and I gasped out his name.  He moved his hand and circled my clit with his thumb, while his tongue moved down and began to slip in and out of me. 

My hips were lifting off the bed, pushing as I tried to get even closer to his probing tongue.  His thumb pressed down, hard, and I shivered as he penetrated me with one long finger.  I was panting, my heart racing as a second finger joined the first.  I cried out, grinding my pelvis into his face as his mouth moved back to suck at my clitoris.  His hand began to move faster, his fingers slippery from my wetness and I felt my orgasm gathering deep in my belly.

“Ben, please, please…” I was moaning, begging.

At the sound of my voice, he bore down, his tongue rasping against my hard bud and he started to twist his fingers, corkscrewing them in and out.  The orgasm hit me like a freight train as I cried out, every muscle straining.  I fell back, panting.  Ben slowly slipped his fingers out of me, planting kisses on my thighs.  He moved up the bed, pulling the duvet over to partly cover us.  He lay beside me, his arm draped over my waist.  He was still, waiting for me to recuperate.  I turned onto my side to kiss him, his hand dropping down to squeeze my ass.  I leaned over, pushing him onto his back and searching out his nipple with my lips.  I circled it with my tongue, my hand running down his belly to wrap around his impressive erection.  I was aware that the skin of my hand was rough from working outside, so I was careful at first as I grasped him.  Unable to close my fingers around his girth, I began to pump my hand along his length.  He groaned, deep in his throat and I realized that it didn’t matter that my hands weren’t silky smooth.  I was doing this to him.  I was making his hips rise up like this.  I started to move down the bed, wanting to feel him in my mouth, but he reached down, putting his hands into my hair and drew me up, face to face.

“Not a chance.”  He said.  “I wouldn’t last a minute.”  I smiled at that. 

He reached over to the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a condom.  I took the envelope from his fingers and tore it open with my teeth.

“Jesus.”  He said.  “That was ridiculously sexy.”

“Oh good.”  I said.  “That’s what I was shooting for.” 

Kneeling at his hip, I pulled the condom from the packet and reached down, taking his erection in my hand.  I slowly unrolled the rubber down his length, watching his eyes watching my hand.  I slipped my leg over him and sat, his rigid length up along his belly between us.  His hands were on top of my thighs and I put my hands of top of his.  Lifting slightly, I began to slide my slick pussy along his hardness, slowly, slowly rocking my hips.

 I watched the shadows from the flickering candle play on the sharp angles of his face, could see his splendid lips parted.  I moved forward, all the way up until I could just feel the head at my opening.  His hand lifted to reach for himself, but I clasped my fingers with his to stop him.  I tilted my hips, and felt him start to press into my slippery wetness.  I haltingly slid myself down his cock, squeezing his fingers between my own as he stretched me. 

“Take it,” he whispered, “take it all.”

A small whimpering sound left my lips as our pubic bones met.  I stopped, waiting to adjust to the sheer size of him.  Bracing my hands against his I lifted up, just a little, and pushed back down against him.  Then again, enjoying the friction, the feeling of being filled by him.  I moved my hips in a circle, grinding myself against him, revelling in the pressure against my clitoris.  I let go of his hands and threw myself forward onto his torso, kissing his beautiful mouth.  I felt his hands move to my ass, kneading, as his hips moved to meet mine.  His urgency spurred me on; I moved faster, my breathing uneven.  Every time I smacked myself down onto him a deep grunt bubbled from his throat and that finally was what pushed me over the edge.  That sound, the pleasure in it, his fullness inside me – I arched my back, an incoherent sound bursting from me.  All at once, his arms were around me and he flipped us over, this time not waiting for me to recover; driving himself into me, pounding at me in his desperation, his breath rasping in my ear.

“Yes, yes, YES!  Fuck yes!”  I clung to him, our groins slamming together when suddenly I was floored by my third orgasm. 

With a final frenzy of thrusts an animal noise growled from his chest and he collapsed onto me.

We kissed, tasting salt and the remnants of whiskey on each other’s tongues. 

“I’m sorry my lovely, but I have to…” he said, pulling out of me and rolling over to dispose of the condom.  He rolled back, pulling the duvet with him, gathering me in his arms and placing a gentle kiss on my temple.  I drifted off to sleep.

 

 

In the morning I woke, momentarily confused by the unfamiliar ceiling overhead.  I was being spooned.  I smiled as the memories flooded in.  I turned my head and feeling slightly stunned, realizing that I really had slept with HIM last night.  Crazy.  And wonderful. 

Slowly, slowly so as not to wake him, I slipped out of the bed, gathering my jeans, socks and bra off the floor, then ran down the stairs to find my shirt.  I dressed in the downstairs loo, washing my face and brushing my teeth with the brush and paste from my backpack.

I went and sat on the couch.  This was the tricky part.  He knew I knew who he was, and last night it hadn’t been an issue.  But now?  I tore a page from the back of my appointment book and dug around in my pack for a pen.  I wrote,

_Ben,_

_Thank you for being so sweet._

I signed my first name and added my mobile number and left the note on the coffee table.  Putting on my boots and jacket, I threw my backpack over my shoulder, grabbed my helmet and quietly slipped out the door. 

I stepped out into the morning sunlight and started strolling back to the pub to retrieve my bike.  I kept catching myself grinning like an idiot.  The walk took about 45 minutes.  Standing by my bike, I stuck my hand in my jeans pocket.  No keys.  I checked both pockets of my jacket.  Nothing.  A bit desperate now, I started checking pouches on my pack, when all of a sudden, it came to me.  Ben had never given my keys back.  Well, fuckity-fuck-fuck.  I didn’t have his phone number.  There was nothing for it.  I’d have to go back and hope he hadn’t gone out in the meantime.  And then what?  Throw rocks at his window until he answered?  It’s not like his was the only flat in the building.  Goddamnit!  I headed back, moving much more quickly than I had on my first trip.  I trotted up to his building, my feet cramping from trying to jog in motorcycle boots, and there he sat:  jeans, t-shirt and flip flops, wearing sunglasses, reading the newspaper and drinking coffee on the front steps.  His damp curls were shiny in the sun.  I stopped.

“Oh, hello.”  He said casually.  “Missing something?”

I sat down beside him and reached for his coffee cup.  He passed it over and I took a sip.  I shrugged out of my jacket.

“A bit warm this morning.”  I noted, wiping sweat from my forehead.

“It is if you’re jogging in leathers, you loon.”

“You on the other hand look fresh as a daisy.”  I said.

“Yes,” he said, “Well, that’s because I had time for a shower.”

“When did you realize I’d be back?”

“Before I even found your note.  I went into the kitchen to make coffee.  I picked my jacket up off the chair to hang it in the cupboard and I heard the keys in the pocket.”

“So naturally, you had a shower, made a pot of coffee and took the time to make yourself look all casual and sexy, instead of coming after me with my keys.”

He grinned.

“Well, I’d no way of knowing what route you’d take to the pub.  And back.  Better off to wait here to be sure we didn’t miss each other.  You’re very pretty with your hair loose like that.  Would you like some breakfast?”

I laughed.

“When you put it like that, how can I say no?”

He stood, and offering me his hand, pulled me to my feet.  He leaned down and kissed me.

“Good morning.”  He said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Telling the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai sees Ben again. Things are good, then bad, then very, very good. Because, you know, that's how how these things go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two of I don't know how many. I'd like to thank everyone who's left kudos on Chapter One, they are much appreciated.  
> And, as ever, I welcome your comments/suggestions etc.  
> Thanks,  
> E.

Chapter Two

Telling the Truth

We went upstairs to his flat.  He took my jacket and hung it up.  I dropped my pack by the door and we went into the kitchen. 

“Your keys,” he grinned, pointing to the ring on the counter.

“Eggs?  Toast?”  He asked.

“Yes please.  And coffee?”  I requested.

He put the kettle on and rinsed out the press.  Putting a frying pan on the stove to warm, he opened the fridge, taking out eggs, mushrooms and milk.

“Can I help?”

“Would you chop the mushrooms?”

“Happy to.” 

He passed me a cutting board and indicated the knife block.  I washed my hands and chose the big 10 inch chef’s knife.  Turning to the counter, I started chopping.  It took me less than a minute to slice the whole pile.  I looked over to where he was standing with a bowl of eggs in one hand and a whisk in the other.

“So…you’ve done that before?”

“Yup.  In one of my previous lives.  Anything else I can do?”

“Make the coffee?   I’ll do the eggs.”

I measured coffee into the press and added water.  Leaving it to steep, I dropped a couple of pieces of bread into the toaster and turned to watch him.  He was stirring the mushrooms in a bit of butter, poking at them with a rubber spatula.  That’s actually a pet peeve of mine.   

“Good god man, leave them alone or they’ll never brown.”

He turned and glared at me.

“Quiet you.  I’m cooking.”

“Yessir.”  I depressed the plunger on the coffee and poured us each a cup.  I took mine and grabbing the newspaper he’d left on the counter, sat at the kitchen table.  I tried to read the front page, but couldn’t really concentrate on anything except that Benedict Cumberbatch was cooking me breakfast.   He poured the eggs over the mushrooms and turned, pushing the lever down to start the toast.  Reaching for the sugar bowl he added 2 teaspoons of sugar to his coffee and stirred.

“So,” He asked, “You were a chef?”

“And kitchen manager in a pub.”

“And what else?”

“Are you interviewing me for a position?” I asked with a grin.

 “You were fairly forthcoming last night.”  He said, sounding serious.  “I’d like to know more.”  He stirred the eggs.

“OK, so…my CV:  last job before leaving Canada, administrative assistant to the CEO of a hospital.  Not terribly cerebral and too much paperwork.  And really a bad fit for me since I had to be on my best behaviour all the time.  Prior to that, I was at the restaurant.  I loved the atmosphere in the kitchen, the camaraderie, working will all those intense, crazy young men.  In the end though, I had to consider what kind of future there was in that industry.  It wasn’t for me.  Before that I was tour guide.  Oh and I was a nanny for a year.”

He popped the toast onto a plate and started to butter it. 

“Did you go to college?”

 “Yes.”

“And you studied?”

I hesitated.

“Oh god,” I couldn’t look at him.   “I went to theatre school.” 

He frowned, “What?  Really?” 

“Yes.  I did all the plays and musicals in high school and I was good at it.  I thought I wanted to be an actor. ” My face was burning.  I was appalled that he might think I’d had an ulterior motive.

“So what happened?”

“I grew up in a small town.  I went to college in a small town.  I was kind of a big fish in a small pond.  Then I finished school and moved to the city.  I lost my nerve.  Like I told you last night.  The whole fear equals stasis thing.”

He carried two plates over to the table, placing one before me and sitting down.

“Which eventually leads you here.”

“Yes.  Failed actress works a series of dead end jobs and then moves to England and meets world famous actor.  Look, Ben, please don’t think for a second that that has anything to do with last night.  Last night just…”  I ran my hands through my hair, trying to think what to say to make it clear to him.  “You ask a lot of questions.  And you really listen to the answers.  I felt comfortable with you.  I told you things I don’t usually tell people.  That’s all.  It wasn’t all part of a cunning plan. “ 

He looked at me, a small frown causing the top of his nose to wrinkle. 

“Eat your eggs.”

The atmosphere had changed.  I tried to discuss some of the headlines from the newspaper, but the conversation was stilted.  I felt like I was waiting for a bomb to drop.  I felt sick.  We finished eating and he took the plates to the sink.  He turned on the water and started washing the dishes.  I had to do something; to try and make him understand.

I went to him.  Standing behind him, I put my hands around his waist.  He kept scrubbing the dishes.  I leaned into him, my hands on his flat stomach.

“Look,” I said, “Half an hour ago, I was the happiest I’ve been in a long time.  Everything I told you last night was true.  Everything I told you today was true.  I’m never, ever going to try to be something I’m not.  I don’t play games.  This is me.  Take it or leave it.  You have my number.”

 I placed a kiss on his back, grabbed my keys off the counter and got the hell out of there.  Running down the stairs, I was trying not to cry.  I was appalled at myself.  This wasn’t a fucking romance novel.  I told myself to get a grip.  It was one night.  Count yourself lucky and get on with your life.

I walked back to the pub, retrieved my Ducati and drove home.

When I first moved to London in January, I rented a crappy but cheap little bedsit.  A month later, I met Jeremy.  I had found a great little café that hosted a roots and country open mike night on Thursdays. The first couple of times I went, I just listened, enjoying the music.  The owner, Jeremy, was the emcee for the show.  He played guitar and sang and had a passion for songwriters like Steve Earle, Townes Van Zandt and Lucinda Williams – American roots at its best.  The third time I went, he remembered me and struck up a conversation.  He was bright and funny as hell and he asked me to do a song with him.  We sang an old Steve Earle tune, “I Can’t Remember If We Said Good-bye” and were pleasantly surprised at how well our voices worked together; we had great chemistry, onstage and off but it was completely platonic.  We sat in the café long after closing, singing songs and telling stories and by the time we were ready to call it a night, he told me he owned a small house and had an extra bedroom.  I moved in that weekend. 

I unlocked the door and heard him call, “Kai?”

“Yeah, hi Jem.”

He walked down the hall and with a big smile he asked, “Where the bloody hell have you been?”

This had been the first night since I’d moved in that I hadn’t come home.

“Did my little Maple Leaf meet someone?” He asked, grinning.

“It’s a long story Jemmy.  I’m going to have a shower.” 

I headed down the hall to my bedroom.

“Hey, Kai?  Are you alright?”  He followed me, a look of concern on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine.  I’m just really, really tired.  Let me shower and I’ll fill you in, O.K?”

“O.K.”

I smiled to reassure him and grabbing some clean clothes, headed for the bathroom.  I turned the water on and got undressed.  Images of the night before kept popping into my head.  I showered, scrubbing like I was trying to wash off the painful memory of how my perfect night had ended in disaster.  He couldn’t even look at me as I’d left.  He must have thought the worst; that I was some star-fucking groupie.

I dressed and went into the kitchen.  Sunlight was flooding in from the back garden.  The whole back wall was glass, with a door leading to a paved patio.  Jeremy had given me free rein over the garden when I’d moved in and we had raised vegetable beds with tomatoes, peas, beans, salad greens.  The rest of the yard was planted with flowers, so we always had fresh bouquets on all the tables.  I sat at on a stool at the island and Jem passed me a cup of tea.

“Tell me,” he said.

He wasn’t just prying, he was genuinely concerned. 

“So,” I sighed.  “I did meet someone last night.  He’s brilliant and he’s funny and I slept with him.”

“Hurrah for that!  So what’s the problem?”

“He’s an actor.  A well-known actor.  And this morning I told him that I’d gone to theatre school and everything got weird.”  Wow.  Things go to hell in three short sentences.

“Who was it?”

“I’m not telling you.  Don’t look at me like that.  I’m not telling you because it’d feel wrong to me.  I’m not going to tell you because I’d be proving his worst suspicions right.  I’d be lying if I said it didn’t matter ‘who he is’ because he’s famous, so of course it matters.  But if I talk about him; if I tell you, then I am _that girl_.  And I’m  not.  I’m just fucking not.”

Jeremy sighed.

“As long as nothing bad happened.”

“No.  Nothing bad happened.  It was wonderful.  It was perfect.  Until it wasn’t.”

“O.K.”  He came around the island and hugged me.  “Mrs. Klein called the house this morning.  She said you weren’t answering your mobile and she wants to talk to you about your bookings for next week.”

Bev Klein owns the gardening and landscaping service I work for.  She sets up the jobs and contracts me out.  I took my tea and went to find my phone.  I dug it out of my pack and turned it on.  There were two messages from the boss, asking me to call her to set my schedule for the coming week.  There was a text from Mr. and Mrs. Stevens thanking me for the work I’d done at their house, and there was a voicemail from a blocked number.  I held my breath.  I pressed the button and held the phone to my ear.  Oh god, that voice.

“Kai.  It’s Ben.  I’m sorry.  I behaved like a complete twat. I’d very much like to see you again.  I’m leaving the country on Wednesday for work, so, would you come to dinner with me tonight?  Look, either way, just…ring me back.“ And he left his number.  I dialed.

“Kai?”

“Hi Ben.”

“Hi.  I need to apologize”

“No, you don’t.  I can’t even begin to imagine how bizarre it must be to live your life under the scrutiny you do.  And I recognize that you have to be guarded.  I would love to go to dinner with you tonight, but I need you to understand something.”

He hesitated.

“Yes?”

“I will always tell you the truth Ben.  I don’t lie.  With me, what you see is what you get.  I’ve learned the hard way that the only road to happiness is to be honest about what my needs are.  And what I need now is for you to give me your word that you won’t make assumptions about who I am or what my motives are.  Promise me that if you have any questions, you’ll ask them.  Otherwise, it’s pointless for us to see each other again. ”

I waited.

“Fucking hell.  Alright.  Yes.  I promise you that I will always ask you the question before assuming the answer.  Jesus Christ, who are you?”

I laughed. 

“I’m the woman who’s having dinner with you tonight.”

“I’ll pick you up at six thirty.”

I gave him my address and hung up.  I ran down the hall and found Jeremy in the kitchen.  I grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet, jumping up and down.

“What?  What happened?”

“I’m having dinner with him tonight.  Holy shit Jeremy, I’m going to see him again!”

He pulled me in for a hug. 

“Good for you Maple Leaf.”

I spent the rest of the day in a daze.  I called my boss and booked my jobs for the coming week.  I spent an hour trying on clothes until I found something I was happy with.  I worked in our garden for a couple of hours, weeding, cutting flowers and pruning shrubs.  I couldn’t concentrate properly on anything. 

At five o’clock, I gave up trying to kill time and started getting ready.  I ran a bath and poured an enormous glass of Shiraz.  I shaved and plucked and scrubbed.  I dried off and flipped my head upside down to blow dry my curls.  Hallelujah!  My hair cooperated and I fluffed it with my hands, deciding to wear it loose. 

I went to my room to put on some make up and get dressed.  I popped a CD into the stereo:  Radiohead, _Pablo Honey_.  I skipped ahead to 'Creep', set it on repeat and turned it up loud, singing along at the top of my lungs.  I kept things simple, mascara, dark blue liner to bring out my brown eyes, blush and a sheer peach lip balm.    I sat back and looked myself over.  From working outside, a bit of a tan, and a whole lot of freckles.  A cloud of dark red hair.  I was happy – I looked good.

I got dressed.  I didn’t have occasion to wear a lot of fancy lingerie.  I had one set though that I’d spend way, way too much money on.  It was a peacock blue demi bra and underpants.  I felt sexy as hell when I put it on.   My stomach is not flat and my legs are not skinny.  But, my job is quite physical so I’m muscular, with wide shoulders and hips and big boobs.  Still, I always feel that I look better dressed than naked. I’d chosen a dress that I knew complimented my body.  It was navy blue jersey, heavy, swingy material that clung everywhere it should.  I strapped a wide caramel coloured leather belt at my waist and pulled on a pair of matching knee high boots.  I was double checking my appearance in the mirror and still singing along with Thom Yorke when there was a knock at my door.  I opened it.  Jeremy looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, “your date is here.”

Let me be clear.  Jeremy and I have seen every episode of Sherlock at least three times.  We’ve had Cumberbatch movie marathons.  He is as big a fan as I am.  He was absolutely gobsmacked.

I burst out laughing at the look on his face.

“Why aren’t you at work?  I thought you’d left ages ago.”

“No,” he hissed, pushing me back into my room and shutting the door behind him, “I had to stick around to see who the mystery man was.”

“Don’t be rude.  Go offer him a drink.  I’ll be out in a minute.”

He left and I turned off the music, grabbing my purse and throwing in lip balm, wallet, cigarettes and keys.  I took a deep breath and walked out into the sitting room.

Ben was standing at the front door, wearing a dark blue suit with a crisp white shirt, no tie and the top two buttons open. 

“Wow.”  I said.  “You look gorgeous.”

He bent to kiss my cheek.

“So do you.  Navy is your colour.”

 “But we match.  Should I change?” I asked with a smile.

“Don’t be ridiculous.  No one will even notice me next to you in that dress.”

 “This is my friend, Jeremy,” I said, turning so Ben couldn’t see me blush.

“Where are you two off to tonight?” Jem asked.

“Some friends are having a dinner party,” Ben answered.

My heart stopped.  It would have been strange enough going out in public with him, but now I would be meeting his friends.  And at a house; not even a restaurant full of people to act as a distraction.

“Shall we go?  I’ve a taxi waiting.”

“Ready,” I said, grabbing a grey blazer off the rack by the door.

We went outside and got into the car.  Ben gave the driver an address and we sat back as he drove off.

“So, your friends?”  I was trying hard to sound casual.

“Andrew and Julia.  I’ve known Andrew since Harrow.  He’s an architect and Julia’s the most amazing photographer.  It’s just a few old friends getting together for a meal and to catch up before I go away again.  Nothing to worry about.”

“You do realize that meeting old friends of yours on what is essentially our first date is actually terrifying, right?”

“You’ll be fine.  They’ll love you. Trust me,” he smiled down at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  Just at that moment, I’d probably have walked over hot coals if he’d asked me.

During the taxi ride, he asked me about the work I’d been doing.  I explained that I’d always loved the traditional look of overgrown English gardens and told him how I specialized in adapting that; trying to maximize what could be done in fairly small urban spaces.

“I should have you take a look at my terrace.  It’s completely gone to ruin.  My Mum and Dad look in at it when I’m away, but they have their own home to worry about.”

“I’d be happy to give you a consult, but fair warning, my services I don’t come cheaply.”

He smiled at that.

The taxi pulled up in front of a row of beautiful old houses.  Ben got out and offered me his hand.  He paid the driver and taking my hand, we went up to the door.  He didn’t bother to ring the bell, but walked straight in. 

“Hello?” he called.

“Ben!”  A striking woman came out to meet us in the hallway.  She was tall with ash blonde hair cut in a shoulder length bob.  Following her was a man about the same height with short brown hair and the brightest, sparkling blue eyes.  They took turns hugging each other.

“This is Kai,” said Ben, “Kai, these are my friends, Andrew and Julia.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” said Andrew, taking my coat and hanging it up.

“Come in; let’s get you both a drink,” said Julia.

We followed them down the hall to the next room. 

“Oh my god,” I thought. 

There were six more people seated around a hearth with a huge flower arrangement in place of a fire.  A series of black and white photos of old stone bridges lined the walls.

“We’re all having wine at the moment.  Red or white?” asked Andrew.

I asked for red as Julia introduced me to the others.

“Kai, these are a bunch of people whose names you won’t remember, but don’t worry.”  She pointed to each person and recited, “David and Elise, Kieran, Melanie, Oliver and Victoria.  Everyone, this is Kai.”

I smiled, shaking their hands and willing myself to remember who was who.  Andrew came back with two glasses of red and we all sat.  I was quiet, listening to this group of old friends catching up; asking after each other’s children, jobs, friends they had in common.  They were so easy with each other that I felt myself relaxing in their company.  They made a point of trying to include me, asking questions about my work and how I’d come to be living in London.  I told a much abbreviated version of the story Ben already knew.  I kept catching one of the women, Victoria, staring at me.  When I’d smile at her, she’d look away.  Clearly not my biggest fan.

Julia and Andrew took turns checking on the food and finally Andrew came in and asked us all to follow him to the dining room.  He started to point us all to where he wanted us to sit, breaking up the couples.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Ben, “I’m not sitting down the other end of the table and leaving her to the mercy of you and Oliver.”

“Of course you are - my house, my rules,” said Andrew, pulling out the chair for me.

"Ave, Imperator, morituri te salutant," I said, sitting.

Ben and the others burst out laughing. All except Victoria, I noticed. Julia came in carrying a large serving platter.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, serving scallops onto each of our plates.

Andrew repeated what I’d said.

“Oh, well done,” said Julia, laughing.  I decided I loved her.

The conversation flowed easily throughout the meal.  Andrew and Julia were natural hosts, topping up glasses, keeping the conversation flowing.  The food was fantastic.  The scallops were followed by pork tenderloin stuffed with herbs, roasted fingerling potatoes and sautéed rapini.  Ben kept catching my eye and I was touched that he felt the need to keep checking on me.  In truth, I was having a wonderful time.  Oliver was hilarious and had a gift for mimicry, on a couple of occasions making the entire table cry with laughter.

After dinner, we were banished to the sitting room while our hosts cleared the table.  Julia came in and poured more drinks for everyone.  I was sitting in the corner of the sofa, a stupidly large whiskey in hand. 

Ben came up behind me, bent down and whispered in my ear.  “Come and smoke with me.”

I set my glass on the table and followed him out through the kitchen where Andrew was slicing a chocolate cake.  We walked out onto the back terrace.  It was cool and quiet.  Ben took a pack from his inside pocket, shaking out two, placing them in his mouth and lighting them.  He passed me one.

“Are you having fun?” he asked, his head falling back as he exhaled, cords of muscle standing out on his neck.

“I really am.  They’ve been very nice.  On their best behaviour I think.”

He grinned.  “They like you.”

Victoria came outside and joined us.

“Can I have one of those?” she asked.

Ben gave her a cigarette and flicked his lighter for her.

“So Ben, where are you off to next?” she asked.

“I leave for the States on Wednesday; I’m there for 3 weeks, then Venezuela.  Not sure exactly how long for, but at least a month.”  My stomach dropped.  He’d said he was going away, but I’d no idea it would be for so long.  I looked away.

“I don’t know how you do it, being away from home for so long,” Victoria said.

“I’m usually so focussed when I’m working that I don’t even think about it.  The downtime when I’m not filming is more difficult,” he explained.

“I’ve moved halfway around the world," I said, "it’s not easy, leaving your family, your friends,” I said.

“I suppose it’ll be harder once you’ve married, had kids?  Right now, you really don’t have anything much to keep you at home, do you?” Victoria asked.

On the face of it, it seemed a fairly innocuous comment, but it was directed at me.  She was letting me know that she didn’t consider me important.    I couldn’t be angry at her; it was true.  I had known Ben for barely 24 hours.  But still, what a cow!

I butted my cigarette and went inside.  My hands were shaking.  

“Where’s the loo please?” I asked Andrew.

“Down the hall, second door on the left,” he said, putting finishing touches on the dessert plates.

I locked the door behind me and had a pee.  Washing my hands, I looked at myself in the mirror.  “Take a deep breath,” I thought, “These people have known him forever.  They’re bound to be protective.”

I opened the door.  Ben was waiting outside.  He said nothing, just wrapped his arms around me.  My head was against his chest.  He smelled of cigarette smoke and the cool outside air.  I put my arms around his waist looking up at him. 

“I’m sorry about Victoria.  She can be a bit…”

“Devoted?” I asked.

“That’s very generous,” he said with a grin.

“I’m being a grown up,” I announced. 

He kissed me, one hand running down my back to squeeze my rear end.

Andrew came into the hall, plates balanced on his arms, “Oh for heaven’s sake you two!  Come and have some dessert.”

“We were,” Ben grinned devilishly at his friend.  Taking my hand, he led me after Andrew into the other room.

Ben sat next to me on the sofa, his hand resting on my thigh.  We all sat around, eating cake, drinking, talking.  I avoided looking at Victoria.  David and Elise had just bought a house, and were eager to do something with their new property.  We exchanged phone numbers and they said they’d be in touch soon to see if I could help them.   Ben had gone to use the bathroom. 

When he came back in he announced, “I’ve rung for a taxi.  I have to call it a night, I have an interview tomorrow.  Early.”

Everyone started to protest that it was too soon for him to go; that it would be ages before they saw each other again, but Ben started to say his good byes.   When the taxi arrived, the whole group followed us to the door.  We went through the whole getting coats and thank you for a lovely evening and wasn’t it nice to meet everyone rigmarole.

He took my hand as we walked to the car.

“I don’t actually have an interview tomorrow.  Will you come home with me?”

“Absolutely,” I said.

We got into the car and Ben told the driver where we were going.  We settled back into the seat, his arm around my shoulders.  I relaxed into him, my hand resting on his leg.  He turned his head into my hair and inhaled. 

“You smell like bergamot.”

“Do you like it?” I asked.

“Yes.  It’s one of my favourite scents.”

“I’m allergic to most perfume, so I make my own body oil.”

“It’s lovely.  You’re lovely.”

I tilted my head so I could look at him.  Jesus.  Even in the sporadic light of the streetlamps, he was so beautiful.  The jut of his cheekbones below those remarkable eyes and the sharp line of his upper lip – I reached up and ran my finger along it.  He grabbed my finger lightly between his teeth, running his tongue along the tip.  He sucked it into his mouth, sending little sparks shooting through my belly.  He released my finger and bent his mouth to mine, softly nipping my bottom lip. 

I lost myself in the kiss, sliding my tongue out to meet his.  His hand was between my knees, the heat of it curling up through me.  We heard the driver clearing his throat. 

“We’re here sir.”

Ben paid the driver and we ran up the stairs.  Shutting the door behind us, he led me straight up the stairs to his bedroom.  Taking his lighter from his pocket, he lit a candle on the dresser.  I set my purse down next to it.

“Stay there a minute,” he said.  He walked to the window and lit three more candles that sat on the sill, the flames reflecting off the glass.  He went to the bed and lit another on the bedside table.  I realized he’d taken the time to set this up before he’d left the house.  He came back to me and led me to stand next to the bed. 

“I need to tell you something,” he said, “This is important, so listen very carefully.  You are beautiful.  You’re not skinny.  You’re not tall.  You have hands like a farmer.”  I chuckled.

“But you are beautiful,” he went on, “Your freckles drive me mad.  You smell amazing.  I would like to roll around naked in a blanket of your hair.”  I laughed at that.  “I’m going to kiss every inch of you.  I’m going to put my hands all over your gorgeous body.  And you’re going to let me.  Because you,” he said, running his finger over the tattoo on my wrist, “aren’t afraid of anything.”  I was no longer laughing.  The way he looked at me sent flickers of excitement rippling through me. 

“To be clear, I never said I wasn’t afraid of anything.  What I said was that I do things even if they scare me.  Sometimes, because they scare me.”

Looking into his eyes I said, “Undress me.” 

 He slid my jacket off and tossed it onto a chair beside the door.  He pushed me down to sit on the bed and knelt.  Lifting my foot, he pulled off first one boot, then the other.  He stood, kicking off his shoes.

“I’m going to take my off my socks,” he said with great dignity.

“Oh god,” I said, looking away,“I can’t watch." 

He threw his socks over by his discarded shoes and gathered me in his arms.  His lips came down on mine, pushing my mouth open, his tongue seeking, tasting me.  He unbuckled my belt and let it fall.  He slid his hands down my back, bunched the fabric of my dress in his hands and pulled it up over my head.  He dropped my dress to the floor, moving his hands to my hips.  His eyes ran down my body, back up to my face.  He smiled.  He slid his hand inside the cup of my bra, his lips on my neck.  I pushed his jacket back off his shoulders, unbuttoned his shirt.  He shrugged it onto the floor and with his arms around me; we fell back onto the bed.  His face was between my breasts.  He nuzzled, running his tongue under the lacy edge of my bra.  His hands slid up to the clasp at the front, popping it open.  He gathered my breasts in his hands, pushing them together, drawing a nipple into his silky wet mouth.  He sucked at one, his fingers pulling and twisting at the other.  He grabbed the nipple between his teeth.  I made a soft “Oh” noise.  He bit down and my hips bucked against him.  He ground his pelvis into me, and I could feel the hardness of him through his trousers.  I slid my hands between our bodies.  Yanking the button open I grabbed his waistband and pulled.

“Take them off,” I breathed.

“No.  I don’t think so,” he said, sliding away from me and down my body.  His hands were at my hips, slipping my underwear down my legs.  I pulled my bra off and flung it to the floor. 

He was between my legs.

“Give me your hand,” he said.

I reached down to him.  He took my hand, ran his tongue across my palm, and then placed it on top of my pussy.

“Touch yourself for me.  Show me what you like.”

I rose up on my elbow.  I watched his face as I slid my finger down between my labia.  I was slippery wet.  He watched my hand like a hawk.  I could feel his breath on my skin.  I began to stroke, rubbing my clit with my middle finger, slowly moving in circles.  I was already breathing hard, watching him watching me.  He dipped his head down, tasting me.  I felt his tongue on my finger.  He licked me.

I shuddered, sighing, “Put your fingers inside me.”

“Ask me again.”

“Ben, I want your fingers inside me.” 

“Again.”

“Ben, please,” I moaned, “I need your fingers inside me.”

He lazily slid one long finger into me.  He pulled back and slipped a second finger in.  My hips jumped against his hand.

“No,” he said, placing a hand firmly on my abdomen, “Don’t move.”

He moved the other hand in and out, stroking at me with his fingers.  I increased the pressure on my clitoris.  He bent over and bit my hand, hard.  With a hiss, I jerked my hand away.  He moved forward and stuck his tongue between my lips, finding the hard bud immediately.  I gasped and he sucked, pulling it between his teeth.  His fingers were driving in and out and even with his hand on my belly, my hips rose to meet them.  I groaned.

And he was gone. 

“Not yet,” he said. 

Standing up, he slid his trousers down and stepped out of them.

“Come over here,” he said, his voice soft and low.  He was holding himself in his hand, stroking slowly.

I moved over, sitting at the edge of the mattress, my face nearly level with his crotch.  He took a step closer.  I reached for him.

“No.  No hands,” he said, “Just your mouth.”

I curled my hands into the duvet.  As I leaned forward he held himself up to my lips.  I opened, taking the head of his penis into my mouth.  His hips pushed forward and I sucked him in, his hand moving up to meet me.  I ran my tongue over him, drawing him into my mouth.  His free hand came up, tangling into my hair, pulling me closer.  I started sliding my lips up and down his cock, his hand matching my movements.  I moved down, trying to take as much of his length into my mouth as I could.  I gagged, my eyes watering – I pulled back but his fingers tightened against my scalp, pulling me closer.  A spurt of saliva washed over my tongue and I took a deep breath through my nose, edging down him.  As my fingers met his hand, he let go, both hands now in my hair, pumping himself into my mouth.  My hands moved to his hips, pulling him to me; I moaned deep in my throat.  I heard his sharp intake of breath and he jerked forward.

“Suck me.  Suck harder,” he groaned, “I want to come in your mouth.”

Jesus, the sound of his voice set me on fire.  I drew back, my lips tight around him and sucked, wanting to consume him, wanting only to give him pleasure.  I drove my mouth onto him, and back, pulling, drawing him into me.

He was losing control, his breath rasping as he thrust in and out of my eager mouth.  With a guttural cry, he jerked forward and I felt him spill onto my tongue.  I swallowed, my tongue lapping, catching every drop.

He gathered me into his arms, drawing me up against his naked body.  He kissed my mouth, moved to suck at my neck, down to take a nipple between his lips.  My knees were shaking. 

“Sit down,” he said, “I’ll be right back.”

He walked to the bathroom and I turned, untucking the sheets, drawing them back.  I heard water running and he came back, sipping from a glass.  He offered it to me.  I drank and set the glass on the nightstand.

“Lie down.”

I slithered between the sheets, moving over to make room for him beside me.  He pulled the duvet up and wrapped himself around me, his hand running down my stomach to land between my legs.   

“Fucking hell, you’re sopping wet,” he whispered into my ear.  I shivered.

He stroked me, scissoring my clit between his fingers.  Groaning, I reached down, putting my left hand on top of his, urging him to increase the pressure.  I felt his cock jump against my leg and moved my right hand down, wrapping around him.  I squeezed, pulled, coaxing him; his hardness growing in the circle of my fingers.  His hand moved down, a long finger sliding into me.  He dragged his thumb around my clitoris, my hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him into me.

He rolled away from me and opened the nightstand drawer.  Turning to me, he passed me a condom.

“Open it,” he ordered.

I took the edge of the packet between my teeth and tore it open.  He smiled, took it from my fingers.  He reached down, pulling on the condom.

He rolled on top of me.  My hand was on his cheek as he kissed me, his tongue stroking against mine.  I raised my knees and lifted my hips, offering myself to him.   Using his hand, he stroked his impressive prick all along my pussy, rubbing the head against my opening.

“Ben,” I whispered.

“Tell me,” he urged, his lips tickling my ear.

“I want…I need you inside me.”  My skin felt electric.  Bloody hell, this man.  At that moment I’d have said, done, anything he asked of me.

He bore down, pushing himself into me.  I wrapped my arms around him, raising my hips against his. My breath caught as I stretched to his size.  When he was fully inside me, he stopped, kissing me, waiting.

My legs came up, wrapping around his back.  He raised himself on his elbows, looking into my eyes in the candlelight.  He pulled back, stroked into me, with agonizing restraint.  My muscles constricted around him.  A spasm flickered across his face, pleasure and pain.

“Kai,” he whispered.

We moved together, each of us wanting the same thing; each trying to make the other to feel what we were feeling.  He drew himself all the way back, drove forward, sheathing himself deep inside me with long, hard strokes, over and over. 

“Yes, yes, just like that,” I gasped, my voice sounding desperate to my ears.

He moved faster, his pelvis pounding at me, his teeth at my throat.  I yelped as he bit my neck, my fingers clenching at his back.  I dropped my feet to the bed, raised myself to meet him. 

“Harder, harder, Ben, please...” My head tossing against the pillow, I begged.

He slid his arm under my ass, lifting my hips to him and rising up on his knees, he thrashed against me.

I shrieked, white-hot heat exploding in my groin.  He drove himself into me, a gravelly moan bursting from him as he fell forward, collapsing onto me.

He lay panting on top of me, his sweaty curls against my face.  After a moment, he turned his head, dropping gentle kisses up my neck and along my cheek to my mouth.  He drew his tongue along my lips, nipped my bottom lip between his teeth.  I sighed, opening my mouth to him.  We kissed, long and deep, revelling in the sensation of our bodies pressed together, wet from our exertions.  He started to pull back.

“Wait,” I said, “Not yet.”

 

He sighed, “I’m sorry, I have to.”

He rolled off me, turned over and pulled his condom off, dropping it into the dustbin beside the bed.

He came back to me, wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him. 

“Ben?” 

“Yes?”

“I’d love a smoke,” I said.

“Oh, good.  So would I,” he said. 

He got up, retrieving the pack from his jacket.  He came back to the bed and stacked a couple of pillows against the headboard.  He settled back against the pillows and I sat up facing him, pulling the duvet up across our legs.  He lit the cigarette, taking a deep drag then exhaled, holding the cigarette to my lips. 

We sat in smoking in silence.  All but two of the candles had gone out; it was dark and quiet.

“Will you stay the night?” He asked.

“I’d like that,” I answered.

He raised my hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on the top of my knuckles.

“I’m having Sunday lunch with my Mum and Dad.  I can drop you at home on the way, alright?”

“That would be fine.” 

I looked up at him, his pupils huge in the low candlelight.  I shook my head.

“What?” He asked.

“You really are the most remarkable looking creature,” I said, grinning up at him. 

“Creature?!”  He repeated. 

“I mean that in the nicest possible way,” I said, laughing, “From some angles you look like an Easter Island statue.  When you frown, it’s completely intimidating.  When you smile, your whole face lights up.   It makes my knees weak.”

He chuckled.

“I’m happy if your knees are weak, as long as it means you’ll fall into my bed if I smile at you.”

“I think we’ve already proven that to be the case.”

He moved the pillows from behind his back, lying down on his side.

“Come here,” he said.

I turned my back, nestling into him as he wound his arms around me.

He whispered, “Sleep well, my lovely.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Getting To Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai and Ben get to know each other better...

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 3 – Getting To Know You

 

I opened my eyes.  A dim grey light barely lit the room.  Rain was running down the window panes.  I was lying on my side, Ben’s arm heavy on my waist.  The nape of my neck was hot where he was breathing into my hair.  I slowly moved my arm and dragged my hair up off my neck and up over the pillow.  I yawned.  I felt his weight shift as he stretched, pulling me against his body.

“Are you awake?” He asked quietly.

“Mm-hmm,” I answered, curling myself into him.

He kissed my shoulder, “How did you sleep?”

“Like a log.  You?”

“Like a baby.  Once you stopped snoring.”

I turned my head to look at him, “I beg your pardon?”

“You snore when you sleep on your back.”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do,” he said, grinning at my horror, “you make a little whistling noise when you exhale.  Like a cartoon mouse.”

My face got hot, “Well.  That’s embarrassing.”

“It’s really rather endearing,” he said with a grin.

He kissed me on the forehead and rolled over, reaching for the clock.

“It’s nearly ten,” he said, “I need to leave by eleven.”

“Can I have a quick shower?”

“Of course.  Towels are in the left hand cupboard.  I’ll go put on some coffee.”

He got out of bed.  I watched him walk, naked, to the door to grab the plaid robe hanging on the hook.  I rolled over to get up.  I sucked in a breath.  I’d not had sex in months and now two nights in a row - my hips were aching.  I smiled to myself; I was sore from having sex with Benedict Cumberbatch.  Not exactly something to complain about.

I gathered my clothes from the floor and went to the bathroom.  Turning the shower on to heat up, I pulled my hair up into a bun.  I didn’t have time to wash and dry it.  I pulled towels and a washcloth from the cupboard and stepped into the shower.  I opened containers, looking for something that didn’t have too much scent, or I’d be sneezing for hours.  There was a bottle of something citrus; I squeezed it onto the cloth and started to lather up.  I heard the shower door click open and he stepped in, his body blocking the spray.

“Let me,” he said, reaching for the cloth.

Normally, I’d have been uncomfortable naked in the bright light of the bathroom, but after what he’d said last night, telling me he thought I was beautiful, I just didn’t care.

I turned, presenting my back to him.  He scrubbed my shoulders and back, dragging the cloth in circles over my skin.  As he knelt to scrub my bum and legs, I shivered.  He ran the cloth down the outside of each leg, then slowly up between them.  He stood.  Dropping the cloth, he reached for the bottle of body wash.  He squeezed it into his hand and leaning into me, reached around, smearing the soap all over me, his palms running over my nipples.  His hand moved down between my legs.  Putting a hand on the wall for balance, I wiped the other down my torso to get it soapy and reached behind me to take him in my hand.  He was hard as a rock.  I stroked my hand up and down his length, marvelling again that my fingers were unable to close around him.  His hand worked between my legs.

“Bend over.” 

That voice in my ear, goose pimples rose on my skin.  Placing both hands on the back wall, I pressed my hips back against him.  He pushed himself into me, his breath hissing through his teeth.  He wasted no time.  He wasn’t gentle.  He dug his fingers into my skin, pulling me onto him.  His pelvis pounded against my ass as he curved himself over my back.  He was groaning, over and over, deep in his throat as he drove himself into me.  I let my hands slide down the wall and braced them against the floor, completely open to him now.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moaned, “I’m sorry, I can’t…”

Crying out, he slammed himself into me, once, twice, then pulled out.  I felt him spill onto my skin.  As I stood, he wrapped his arms around me, turning my back to the water. 

Kissing me, he murmured against my lips, “I’m sorry.  I couldn’t wait.”

I smiled up at him.

“I don’t mind.  You don’t have to wait for me every time.”

He gave me a dubious look, “Really?”

“Really,” I assured him, “it’s a very powerful feeling making a man lose control.  It’s extremely exciting knowing that I can do that to you.  Sometimes – just sometimes, mind you, that’s as good as an orgasm.”

He stared at me. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go.  I’d very much like to continue this conversation.”

I laughed.

“We just have time for a quick coffee.  Hurry up,” he said, stepping out of the shower.

I turned off the water, dried myself and got dressed.

When I got downstairs, he had poured two cups of coffee and was standing, barefoot in the kitchen reading the newspaper.  He passed me a cup.

“Black, right?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Kai, you know I’m leaving Wednesday?”

“Yes.”  I couldn’t look at him.  I was stunned at how heartsick I felt.  Today was Sunday.  I’d only known him two days.

“I’ll stay with Mum and Dad tonight and come back tomorrow morning.  I have a meeting with my manager and my assistant on Monday morning and I have an interview booked as well.  Then I have the rest of Monday and Tuesday to pack and get ready.  Will you come over on Monday evening?”

“Absolutely,” I said, thrilled that he wanted to see me again before he left.

“Good.  Phone me when you’ve finished work.  We’d better go, I’m late.”

Walking down the stairs to the front door, he reached over and took my hand.  As we stepped outside into the rain I was startled by a flash of light.

“Oh for fuck sakes,” Ben growled, gripping my hand tightly and pulling me down the steps and along the pavement.

 “Ben, Ben, who’s the bird?” A man shouted, snapping picture after picture, the flash blinding me.

Ben clicked the remote in his hand and I heard the beep of a car alarm.  He opened my door for me and walked around the car to slide behind the steering wheel.  The man followed us, shooting pictures through my window.  Starting the engine, Ben pulled out onto the street, reaching for his seatbelt.

“I’m so sorry; fucking paparazzi,” he snarled.

 “Do they just wait outside your house?”

“No,” he thought for a moment, “It might have been the cab driver from last night tipped someone off.  Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, no harm done.  I’m wishing I was wearing some make up though.  I’m going to look pasty as milk in those pictures.”

He burst out laughing.  “Really?  That’s your concern?  Not the invasion of privacy?  Because they’re like sharks.  Now they’ve smelled blood in the water, they’ll be looking for more.”

“Well, good luck to them.  You’re leaving in two days.  And how would they find me?  I’m a gardener.  I’m not exactly on anyone’s social radar.”

Stopping at a red light, he turned to look at me. 

“I’m surprised you’re so calm about it.”

“So am I, frankly.  It’s just too bizarre for words.” 

He smiled at that.

“Nice car, by the way.”  I’d finally had time to notice.

“Yes, isn’t it?  One of the perks of being a spokesperson.  They want you to be seen using the product.”

I relaxed back into the leather seat, watching his hands on the steering wheel, the gear shift, as he negotiated the traffic.  All too soon we were at my door.  Putting the car in neutral, he engaged the parking brake.

“I hope you have a lovely time with your parents,” I said.

“I always do.” He hesitated, went on, “When I phoned you yesterday?”

“Yes?”

“My Mum told me to.”

“What?”

“After you left, I was completely at a loss.   I rang my Mum.”

“And told her what?” 

“I told her how we’d met; how you’d let me take your bike out.  She was disgusted at first.  She still hates that I ride.  I told her about the rest, about you.  Edited somewhat, for maternal ears.  She said I was letting my head rule my heart and told me not to get caught up in my own ego.  And she reminded me that she hadn’t raised me to assume the worst of people.  So I called you.”

“I never thought I’d be happy to be with such a Momma’s boy.”

He smiled, looking a little embarrassed.

“Kiss me and get out.  I’m very late.”

I did.  I spent the rest of the day bouncing between delirious happiness and abject depression.  He was brilliant and funny and so sweet and it was the best sex of my life.  And in two days, he would be gone.  For months. 

I did laundry and packed a lunch for the next day.  I organized an overnight bag for Monday since I’d have to go directly to work from Ben’s house on Tuesday morning.  I ran to the grocery store.  Jeremy wanted a curry.

Around six p.m., Jeremy was at the kitchen table, keeping my wine glass full and working on the payroll for the café.  The Commitments soundtrack was playing on the stereo and I was dancing around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and singing along. 

When the doorbell rang, Jeremy said, “I’ll go.”

I was bent over, headfirst in the cupboard digging for the colander and shaking my ass to the music when I heard laughter.  I swung around, looking over my shoulder.  Ben was standing in the doorway with Jeremy, a huge grin on his face.

“I was going to apologize for dropping by unannounced, but it was worth it for that view.”

“Hi,” I said, thrilled to see him, “what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.  I brought wine,” he said, putting a large bag on the counter.

I went over and looked inside.  There were six bottles. 

“Couldn’t decide?” I asked, one eyebrow cocked at him.

“I realized I don’t even know what kind of wine you like.  So, better safe than sorry.”

I unpacked the bag, putting the bottles of white in the fridge.  

“There’s a bottle of Barolo open.  Or there’s beer if you’d prefer.”

“What kind?”

“Stella.”

“Yes, please.”

I took a bottle from the refrigerator and poured it into a glass.

Passing it to him, I indicated the kitchen table and said, “Sit down.  I’ve work to do.”

He sat at the table with Jeremy and the two of them chatted while I worked on dinner.  I threw a handful of spices into a frying pan to roast, then started a pot of Basmati rice.  Whizzing the roasted spices in the grinder, I listened to their voices, companionable under the music.  One of the reasons Jeremy’s business is so successful is that he’s a wonderful host.  He’s one of those people who can always find something to talk about.  He was telling him about our upcoming trip to Wales.

“You surf?”  Ben asked me.

“Yeah, I do,” I turned to him, throwing a kitchen towel over my shoulder and picking up my wine glass.  I joined them at the table, “the West Coast of Canada has great surfing.”

“What else?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Motorcycles, surfing.  What else do you do?  For fun?”

“Well, hiking.  Camping.  I love kayaking.  Horseback riding.  Anything outdoors really.”

“Do you run?”

“I used to trail run.  I don’t really like running on paved surfaces, so it’s harder to find places to run here.  At home, I could drive 20 minutes from my house and feel like I was in the middle of nowhere.  No cars, no noise.  I could run for an hour and never see another person.  I used to borrow my friend’s dogs and just go exploring.” 

“That sounds incredible.”

“Oh, it was.  As long as you’re not scared of bears and cougars,” I said with a grin as I got up to stir the curry.

“What?  Really?”

“Yeah.  I used to have to carry bear spray and always had bells tied onto my shoelaces for noise.”

Ben’s mouth was hanging open, “You’re not serious.”

“Of course.  You have to make noise so you don’t surprise them.”

“Jesus.  The worst thing you have to worry about here is tripping and falling.”

I laughed.  Spooning rice onto three plates, I poured the curry on top.  I put the plates on the table and chose one of the bottles of white from the fridge.  I poured three glasses and rejoined them.

We ate, Ben asking for more details about our surfing trip.  I conceded that June wasn’t really the best time of year for surfing in Wales, but since neither of us could take more than a couple of days away from work, it was our best option.

“Where would you go if you had more time?”

“Scotland.  Thurso.  Probably the best, biggest surf in the U.K. this time of year,” I said.

“I’ve been.  It’s great surfing, but cold.”

“Yeah, well, I learned to surf in British Columbia.  I’m used to cold water.”

With a frown, he asked, “You’ve said you’d been, well…bigger.  Before.”

“No, I said I’d been fat before,” I corrected.

“But how?  If you do all these sports things?”

“I was fat, not lazy.  I overate because I was sad; trying to fill the emptiness I felt.”

Ben and Jeremy each reached to take one of my hands.  Giving each of them a squeeze, I said,

“It’s all right,” I said, a huge grin on my face, “I’m not sad anymore.”  At that moment, I was anything but.

We finished dinner and I cleared the table.  Jem offered to do the dishes, but I knew he was having the time of his life.  I suggested he show Ben the back garden while I cleaned up. 

I loaded the dishwasher and opening another bottle of wine, went to join them outside.  They were reclining in the loungers, laughing their heads off about something as I joined them.  As I moved to fill their glasses, I caught the pungent scent of pot.  Jem had a little metal box that he kept on a shelf outside because we didn’t smoke in the house.  Ben had a joint between his fingers and as I poured wine into his glass, he offered it to me.

“No thanks,” I said, turning as Jem raised his glass for me to top up.

He passed the joint to Jeremy.

 “Not right now, or not at all?” He asked.

“Rarely,” I answered.  “It makes me stupid.  Especially if I’ve already had a drink.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Not in the least,” I laughed, “It reminds me of parties back home.”

Jem got up, “I’ve got to pee.  Does anyone need anything?”

“Grab me a sweater?” I asked, “And my cigarettes?”

He went inside.

Ben reached a hand toward me and I took it.  Looking down at him, I said,

“I’m happy you’re here.”

“So am I.  Come sit with me.”

He put his feet on the ground and I sat on the chair between his legs, leaning against him.  He wrapped his arms around me.  Through the door, I heard music.  Jem had put on a Mumford and Sons CD.  He turned off the kitchen light, leaving us in the dusky evening light and came out to the terrace, passing me my sweater and a pack of cigarettes.  I sat up, pulling the on the sweater, and lit a cigarette, offering one to Ben.  I turned sideways so I could reach the ashtray and Ben lifted one long leg, draping it over my lap.  Jeremy was grinning at me.  I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to warn him not to say something stupid.

“Well,” he announced, “this is just weird.”

At exactly the same moment, Benedict asked, “What is?” as I said, “Shut up Jem.”

“Last Sunday,” said Jem, cheerfully oblivious to my warning, “we re-watched the third season of ‘Sherlock’ and this week, Sherlock is bonking my flatmate and getting stoned in my garden.”

From anyone else, it would have been completely mortifying, but Jeremy may be the most likeable person in the world and he was just so obviously tickled by the situation that it was completely hilarious.  Ben had just taken a sip of wine and he choked on it.  Sitting up, coughing, he said,

“You think this is weird for you?  Imagine how she must feel.”  Pointing at me he continued,

“We met on Friday, I stole her keys, had to ring my Mum for dating advice, forced her to meet a bunch of my oldest friends on our first date and got her photographed by the press.  Then I show up unannounced, invite myself to dinner and get high with her best friend.  And you think you’re having an unusual week-end?”  It really was too ridiculous for words.

Jeremy relaxed back in his lounge chair. 

“Would you like to see Kai do a trick?” he asked.

“I’d love to,” said Ben.

“Look at the sky,” said Jem.  I grinned, knowing what was coming.

“Now,” he went on, “choose a constellation.  Any one you like.”

“Alright,” Ben said, pointing up and slightly to the left, “that one.”

“Bootes,” I said, “the plowman.”

He moved his hand to the right, “And that one?”

“Camelopardalis, the giraffe.”

I could see him smiling in the faint light.

“And there?”

“Cepheus.  King of Ethiopia and husband of Cassiopeia,” I said, pointing to her constellation, “And father of Andromeda, whom you can’t quite see at the moment, but in a month or so, she’ll be there,” I pointed toward the northwest.

“How many do you know?”

“Lots,” I said.

“Lots,” Jeremy snorted, “I think she knows every single one.”

“When I was a kid, I was addicted to Greek and Roman mythology,” I explained.  “My Dad would make popcorn and we’d lie on the grass, staring up at the sky.  He’d show me where the constellations were and I’d tell him their stories.”

“That’s amazing.”

“She never forgets anything.  Has a mind like a steel trap,” said Jeremy.  “I’m off to bed.  Goodnight Ben, it was great getting to know you.  Goodnight Maple Leaf,” he said, kissing the top of my head.  He went inside, shutting the door behind him.  I heard Norah Jones start playing.  I laughed.

“Jeremy is known for his subtlety.”

“I think it’s sweet.  He clearly adores you.”

We sat in the dark, his arms around me, our fingers twined, listening to the music.  After a while, I said,

“I’m getting cold.  Let’s go inside.”

I took his hand and led him to my bedroom.  I turned the light on and pointed down the corridor. 

“Loo,” I said, “There’s a basket of new toothbrushes under the sink, and clean towels.”

“A basket of toothbrushes?”

“Yes.  Jeremy’s a complete slut, but he’s very considerate.  He buys them by the dozen.”

Shaking his head, he went down the hall.

I picked up my clock, setting the alarm for seven a.m.  I turned on the bedside lamp, shut off the bright one overhead.  I changed out of my clothes, pulling on a tank-style rayon night shirt.  I rubbed some of my home made body oil into my arms and legs, knowing he like the scent of bergamot.  Ben came into my room, his suit jacket over his arm, shirt open and untucked. 

I looked him up and down, “Marvelous creature,” I said... 

Trailing my fingers across his flat stomach, I left to go wash my face and clean my teeth.  When I returned, he was sitting up in my bed, the pillows piled behind his back and reading a book from the pile on the nightstand.  I shut the door and climbed into bed with him.

“Reza Aslan?”  He asked.

“Have you read it?”

“No, not this one.  I’ve read the other one, ‘No God but God’.  You have a lot of books on this subject.  Are you particularly religious?”

“Oh god no,” I said, both of us grinning at the contradiction, “I’m a confirmed Atheist.  But I find the whole subject of religious faith fascinating.  Particularly in relation to politics; the Middle East, the States, the Balkans, Africa.”

It turned out that he was as fascinated by it as I was.  We talked for ages until I started yawning.

“What time do you have to be at work?” he asked.

“8:30. When’s your meeting?”

“A very civilized 10 o’clock.” 

He pulled the pillows from behind his back, reaching for me.  As I reached to turn the light off, he said,

“Just a minute,” and reached for his trousers, folded on the floor beside the bed.  He took his wallet from the pocket and looked through it.  Then he searched it again.

“Um… have you any condoms?” He asked.

“No,” I answered, shaking my head, “I haven’t needed any in some time.  I’d ask Jem, but he’s long asleep.”

“Fuck.  Fucking hell.  Look,” he said, taking my hand, “I’m sorry, but we can’t.  I just…”

“It’s fine Ben.  I understand.” I interrupted.  “Frankly, I was a bit surprised this morning in the shower.”

“Yeah, well.  So was I.  I wasn’t thinking.  That’s why I pulled out.  Even so, it was, I admit, stupid.”

“You weren’t there alone.  It was stupid of us both.”

I was well aware of his desire to be a father.  He’d probably talked about it in half the interviews he’d ever done.  But considering that we’d known each other for about 10 minutes, this was not a conversation I thought we needed be having.  We’d just have to be more careful in the future.

“I have an idea.  Trust me?” I asked, a smile playing across my lips.

He stared into my eyes, “You look positively lascivious.”

“Oh good,” I said.

I turned off the light, pulled my night shirt off and rolled onto my belly, my arm over his taut stomach.  I moved up to find his mouth with mine, flicking my tongue along his lips.  His hand came around my neck and he grasped my hair, pulling me tighter to him, his mouth opening under mine.  I slid my tongue into his mouth, along his teeth, exploring, tasting him.  He lifted his head, trying to get closer.

“No,” I said, “let me.”

He lay back with a sigh as I moved my lips across his cheek and to his throat.  I feathered little kisses down his neck, nipped at the tendon that stood out as his head pressed back into the pillow.  Moving lower I found his nipple, circling it with my tongue, sucking it into my mouth.  Drawing it gently between my teeth, I heard him groan.  I increased the pressure, holding his nipple in my teeth and sweeping my tongue across it.  His hand clenched in my hair.  I made my way down his torso, licking and kissing his smooth skin; my hair loose and tickling against him. 

Reaching his groin, I stopped.  Opening my mouth, I gently exhaled, my breath hot against him.  His prick jumped, bouncing against my chin.  I smiled to myself.  Planting my hands on either side of his hips, I pointed my tongue and ran it first down, then back up his length.  I gently took the head in my mouth, drawing him in.  He raised his hips to me.  I reached down, taking the weight of his testicles in my hand, squeezing softly.  I moved my mouth down, slowly, slowly, increasing the suction.  I played with him like this, varying the pressure of my hand, moving my head up and down until his breath was coming hard.  I moved my hand from his balls and wrapped it around him.  Jacking him up and down, I took his sac in my mouth and sucked.

“Jesus!” His hands twisted into the sheets.

Holding him in my mouth, I squeezed my legs together, feeling how ready I was.  I moved up the bed, turning my back to him.  He rolled over, his arm coming around me, his hand on my breast, searching for my nipple and his lips on my neck.  I wriggled my ass against him.

“Put yourself between my legs,” I said.

“But…” he started to say.

“Not inside me,” I said, “against me.”

Reaching down from the front as he slipped himself between my thighs, I took him in my hand and pressed him to my labia.  I was so wet that he slid easily between them.  I closed my legs, my fingers pressing him up against me.

“Oh my god,” he growled as he started to thrust against me. 

We moved together, finding our rhythm.  Every time he came forward, the pressure from my fingers caused the head of his penis to drag across my clit.  My pulse was pounding in my ears, tendrils of heat snaking through my groin.  I moaned, pushing his cock against me, my fingers slippery against us.  His hand gripped my thigh as he smacked against my ass; he was crooning my name into my ear.  I bucked against him, crying out as I climaxed.  His come shot into my hand as he sank his teeth into my shoulder.  He sighed, brought his arm up around my waist.  I reached over, finding a box of tissue on the bedside table and wiped my hand.

Rolling back into the circle of his arms I raised my mouth for a kiss.  He took his time, stroking my back, tickling his fingers up and down my spine.

“That was ingenious,” he said.

“It really was, wasn’t it?”

He laughed, rolling onto his back.  I curled into him, my head on his chest and fell asleep to the sound of his heart beating in my ear.

 

 

 


	4. Mystery Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots more sex, lots more talking. Moving right along then...

What You Put Into the World

Chapter Four – Mystery Woman

 

I woke to the jangling of the alarm, sat up to turn it off.  I ran my hands through my hair, shaking out the cobwebs.  Reaching over the side of the bed, I grabbed my night shirt and pulled it on.  I turned to look at Ben.  He’d grabbed my pillow and put it over his face. 

Going to the kitchen, I started the kettle then went to brush my teeth.  I usually don’t bother to shower before work because I’m going to get filthy anyway but I was sticky from last night.  I did a quick wash with a cloth – a whore’s bath, my Grandmother would have called it, which made me smile - and went back to the kitchen to make coffee.  Going back down the corridor, I saw that the door to the bathroom was closed.  I went into my room and pulled on a pair of cargo pants and a t-shirt.  I twisted my hair into a single braid down my back, grabbed my pack and went back to the kitchen.  As I was pouring the coffee into two mugs, Ben came in, eyes sleepy, curls damp where he’d run wet hands through them.  He dropped his jacket on one of the kitchen chairs.  I stirred two spoonsful of sugar into one of the cups and passed it to him.

“Thank you,” he said, taking the cup.

The sun was shining, so we took our coffee out onto the terrace.  He sat in the chair and I sat in his lap as we drank our coffee in companionable silence.  Emptying my cup, I sat up.

“I have to go.”

“What time will you be finished?”

“Around half four?  I could be at your place by 5:30.  Can I bring anything?”

“No.  I’ll take care of dinner.  Any preference?”

I thought.  “No squid.”

“Squid?”

“When I worked at the restaurant, we used to have to clean more than a hundred pounds of raw squid every week.  It’s disgusting.  Like little rubbery foreskins full of snot.”

He burst out laughing.

“That’s very graphic.”

“And you can’t get the smell off your hands.  I just can’t eat squid.”

“Good enough; no squid.  I’ll think of something.”

I got up and we went inside.  I took my lunch and water bottle from the fridge, tossed them into my pack and went to the front door.  He slipped his jacket on as I bent to tie my work boots.  I put my leather jacket on and picked up my helmet.  Taking my face in both hands, he kissed me good-bye, softly and thoroughly.

“Ring me when you’re on your way tonight.”

“I will.”

He followed me down the front steps.  His car was parked a few doors down, the opposite direction from my Ducati.  He reached for my hand, pressed his lips against my knuckles, smiled and walked away.  As I turned to go to my bike, I almost ran into my neighbour who was bringing her recycling out to the kerb.

“Good morning Mrs. Nicholson,” I said cheerfully, walking past her.

She was standing with a bag in each hand, watching Ben walk away, her mouth hanging open.

“My dear,” she said, “That looks like…”

“Like who?” I asked.

“Like that actor.  From the Sherlock.”

I looked back to where Ben was getting into his car.  He waved. 

As I waved back, I said, “Don’t be silly Mrs. Nicholson.  He’s much taller than Martin Freeman.”

I pulled my helmet on and hopping on my bike, drove away.

 

 

 

I spent the day working on a water feature.  Some of the rocks were too big to move by myself, and the space was large, so I had an assistant with me.  Alicia was deceptively delicate.  She was only about 5’ 2” and couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds, but she was tough.  She worked hard and never bitched; I enjoyed working with her.  We had built up the back wall, stacking flat stones to define the area.  The pond had been dug and lined the previous week, so once we had the wall finished, all that was left to do was run the electrics and add the plants.  We were sitting on the grass, eating lunch.

“So,” she asked, “how’ve you been?”

“Good.  Busy.  I finished the Stephen’s place last week.”

“I don’t mean work.  What’s up with you?”

Something in her voice made me turn to look at her.  I frowned.

“Nothing,” I said, cautious now, “Why?”

“Have you not seen a newspaper today?”

Oh fuck.

“No,” I said.

She was staring at me, her eyebrows raised.

“Well, I mean…Benedict Cumberbatch?   There were pictures of you together.”

“And?”

“And?  ‘Who’s the new woman in Cumberbatch’s life?’  ‘Mystery Woman caught leaving Sherlock star’s flat.’” she said, quoting the headlines.

“Oh god,” I buried my face in my hands.  So much had happened over the last couple of days, I hadn’t given the incident with the photographer a second thought.

“So,” she said gleefully, “what’s going on?”

I stood up, “It’s personal and I’m not talking about it.  Let’s get back to work.”

“Come on, Kai.  You have to tell me something.  How did you meet him?  Did you really spend the night with him?  What’s he like?  Are you going to see him again?”

“Alicia, it’s none of your business.  We have work to do,” I said sharply.

I felt bad, being short with her, but my mind was racing.  This was how things would be if we were together; everyone wanting to know details, intruding.  People thinking it was their right to know about the private life of a public figure.  On the other hand I was probably getting way ahead of myself.  Ben was leaving the day after tomorrow.  It would be months before I saw him again, if I ever did.  And I had no idea how he was feeling anyway.

We worked in silence for the rest of the afternoon.  At four thirty, I called a halt. 

“Meet me here tomorrow at 8:30,” I said, gathering my things, “one more day ought to do it.”

“Don’t be angry with me Kai.  I never knew anyone who knew anyone famous.  It’s exciting.”

“Yeah, I know and I get it.  But Alicia?  Please don’t ask me about him again.  OK?”

“Fine.”

She was hurt, but right now, I didn’t care.  I was not going to talk about him.

Walking to my bike, I pulled my phone from my bag and hit the speed dial for Ben.  He picked up on the second ring.

“Kai,” he answered, “have you seen the papers?”

“Not personally, but I’ve been informed.  I’m on my way.  I’ll see you soon.”

As I rode my motorcycle through the streets, threading through the rush hour traffic, I was deep in thought.  I’d wasted years of my life in a relationship that made me miserable and completely derailed my life.  And why?  Out of fear.  I had already changed my entire life once.  But I’d done that for myself.  I knew what I needed to be happy so it naturally followed that I knew what would make me unhappy.  Pulling up in front of his house, I sat for a moment.  I had no idea what was going on in Ben’s head, but I’d come to a decision.   

I went up the steps to the keypad and punched in the code for his flat.  He buzzed me in.  When I got upstairs, he was waiting for me.  He was standing in the doorway, his long frame tense.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi Ben,” I passed him my helmet and went inside.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

“Yeah, a huge glass of red please.”

He opened a bottle, poured.  His fingers lingered on mine as he passed me a glass.

“So, someone’s told you?  About the papers?”

“A co-worker.  She was very impressed.  She quoted the headlines for me.   I’ve never been a mystery woman before.”

“I’m so sorry,” he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, “I don’t have to like it, but I’ve sort of gotten used to it.  Well, I’m prepared for it now at least.  But I remember what it was like for me at first, when I started to be recognized.  It’s not easy, especially with the press here in the U.K.  They can be fucking vicious.”

“I honestly don’t care what people I don’t even know think about me,” I said, “I will not live that way.  It doesn’t matter what they write in the papers, they know nothing about me.”

“That’s the problem though, isn’t it?  Have you any idea the lengths to which they’ll go to find out?  And if they can’t, they’ll just invent things.”

“I’ve told you before Ben, I will never, ever again waste my time on things that make me miserable.  I’m not going to drive myself crazy looking over my shoulder or start to second guess my every move in case someone might be watching.”

“So, have you gone completely off me then?” He was leaning back against the counter, his hands gripping the edge.

“Are you mental?  Listen to me, Ben,” I said, poking him in the chest with my finger, “I’ve spent the entire afternoon running this over and over in my mind and for every awful proposition that pops into my head, there’s another that cancels it out.  For every obnoxious photographer screaming at us, there’s you, kissing me good-bye at the door.  For every ludicrous headline, there’s you, showing up at my house because you couldn’t wait to see me.  For every prying co-worker, there’s the way my heart races when you look into my eyes.”  I threaded my fingers into his belt loops, pulled him close to me, “For every ridiculous scenario I can think of that should make me run away screaming, there’s just you.  And you make me happy.”

He stared at me.  I could hear the blood rushing in my ears.  I’d laid it all out there, and it was terrifying.  I’d considered the fact that he might not be feeling what I was feeling; that for him I might be nothing more than a diversion, a couple of days entertainment before he left the country.  But when I’d seen him at the door, something in his body language had told me that he might be taking this whole thing as seriously as I was.

He gathered me into his arms, burying his face in my neck.

“I don’t know if you really understand how much things are going to change for you, but I’ll protect you in any way I can.  I just don’t want you to be hurt.” 

“Fuck ‘em,” I said, “they can say what they like.  I don’t care.”

He kissed me, hard.

“I’m going to give you the mobile numbers for my manager, Robert and my assistant, Louise.  If you need anything at all while I’m away, and you can’t reach me, you call them.  They know how to deal with the press.  Don’t try to do this on your own if things get hairy.”

“It might be just as well that you’re leaving,” I said sadly, “if they don’t see us together for a while they might lose interest.”

“Don’t count on it,” he said, with a sour look on his face. 

He patted me on the bum, “Go have a shower, I’ll get dinner ready.”

I went upstairs and hopped into the shower.  Drying off I realized that I hadn’t brought anything to wear but work clothes for tomorrow.  I took his plaid dressing gown from the back of the bedroom door, not bothering to wear anything underneath, enjoying the smell of him against me.  I padded downstairs, barefoot.  He was waiting for me in the kitchen.  Taking my hand, he led me to the terrace.

He had set the table with candles and there were plates with prosciutto, cheese and olives, and basket of bread.  A decanter of red wine sat next to two glasses.  There were shrubs planted in pots along the railing for privacy and strands of little white fairy lights threaded through them.

“Let’s eat.  Then you can have a look ‘round and tell me how you’d make it nicer.”

“It’s perfect,” I said.

“It’s not,” he said with a snort.

We sat and he poured the wine.

“To bravery,” he said, raising his glass to me.

“Indeed,” I agreed, clinking my glass against his, “balls to the wall.”

He shook his head, chuckling. 

“You have a filthy mouth.”

“I’ve the vocabulary of a highly educated sailor, according to my Mother.”

“And how does she feel about that?” he asked, grinning.

“I think she’s OK with it.  She’s a nurse in the Navy.”

As we ate, I asked him about the movie he was going to be filming.  He gave me a summary of the story, told me about the character he’d be playing.  He’d be in New Orleans for three weeks, then on to South America for about a month.

“Have you been to New Orleans before?” I asked.

“No.”

“The food is amazing.  And the music?  Oh my god, the most talented musicians; live music everywhere. It’s going to blow your mind.  There’s nowhere like it. ”

“You’ve been?”

“Twice.  Once for Mardi Gras, which I barely remember.”

“The shooting schedule is pretty tight,” he said, “but if I sent you an airline ticket, would you come see me?”

“Really?”  I thought for a moment, “I’d have to see what I have booked.  This is a pretty busy time of year for me.”

“I could hire you.  You could do something with this,” he swept his arm around the terrace, “and you’d be able to set your own schedule.”

“Mr. Cumberbatch, are you suggesting that you pay for me to take time away from work so I can fly to the States and have sex with you?”  I popped an olive into my mouth.

“No!  Well…yes.  I suppose I am actually.”

I frowned at him, considering.

“Yeah, alright.”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling in the low light.  Taking my hand, he led me inside to the sofa.

“Would you like a nightcap?”

“Yes please.”

He poured two glasses of whiskey, passed one to me and went to the stereo. I heard the familiar sound of The Stones album, Sticky Fingers.

“I love this album,” I said.

“As do I.  Have a seat; I’m just going to clean up.”

I sat on the sofa, flipping through the script he’d left on the coffee table, tapping my toes to the music.

As Ben was washing dishes, the third track started.  Wild Horses.  I know the song really well, but this time as Mick sang the lines, ‘You know I can’t let you slide through my hands, wild horses couldn’t drag me away,’ I was suddenly and completely overwhelmed.  Tears started to slide down my cheeks...  I gulped hard, fighting to not cry.

Ben walked into the sitting room, drying his hands on a towel. 

Seeing my face he said, “Oh no, Kai, this isn’t what I wanted.”

Joining me on the sofa, pulling me into his arms, he said, “Please, I don’t want you to be sad.”

“It’s not your fault.  It’s just…it’s been a really intense four days.  It’s only been four days!  What’s the matter with me?  Fucking Rolling Stones.”

I heard his laughter rumble through his chest. 

Stroking my hair, he said, “It’s been an amazing four days.  I wasn’t expecting this either, and I wouldn’t leave right now if I didn’t have to.  But you’ll come see me, yes?  A couple of weeks at the most and we’ll see each other again.  And you could come to Venezuela too.  We’ll figure it out.”

 I sat up, wiping my eyes with the hem of his dressing gown. 

“Take me to bed,” I said.

We went up the stairs, hand in hand. 

As we entered the bedroom he said, “I’ll light some candles.”

“No,” I walked over and turned on the bedside lamp, “I want to be able see you.”

He came to me, untied the belt of the dressing gown.   I raised my lips to his.  As his hands slipped inside the gown, along my back, he slid his tongue into my mouth.  Needing to feel his skin on mine, I untucked his t-shirt, pulled it off over his head.  He removed his jeans and underwear, pressed himself against my body, his lips kissing, sucking at my neck.  I turned from him, untucked the sheets and crawled into his bed.  Joining me he pulled the duvet over us and bent his head to my breasts, suckling at my nipples, swirling his tongue around their hardness.  His hand swept down my body, stroked my thighs.  Sighing, I parted my legs to him.  He drew a long finger between my labia, stroking, exploring me with aching patience.  He rested his head on my belly as his finger slowly drew circles around my clitoris.  I tangled my hand into his curls, softly stroking his scalp with my fingers as he moved lower, dipped his tongue into my wetness.  I groaned, my entire focus on the heat of his tongue against me.  Rolling between my legs, he parted my lips with his fingers, swept his tongue from my clitoris down to my opening and back again.

“Ben,” my voice low and soft, “come here, I want you inside me.”

He moved up my body, dropping kisses along my body.  He leaned across and opened the drawer of the table at the bedside, found a condom and rolled back on top of me.  His eyes sparkling, he passed me the envelope.  I took it and tore it open with my teeth.

“I don’t know why that makes me so crazy,” he said.

I reached down, grasping him in my hand and slid the condom down his length.  As he held his weight on his forearms, I guided his rigid penis against my opening.  I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him on top of me.  As he slowly entered me, I buried my face in his neck, thrilling to the feeling of him filling me.  Our pubic bones met and he stopped, raising himself to look at me.  My eyes scanned his face, lingering over the sharp curve of his upper lip, the jut of his cheekbones.  Our eyes met, his pupils dilated with desire.  Holding eye contact, he drew back, pushed forward into me, watching for my reaction.  My hands moved to his back, stroking along the hard muscles, feeling his tension.  He moved with me then, our rhythm slow, agonizing and thrilling at the same time.  One hand came up, twining into my hair, his other on my hip, urging me to move with him.  Watching his face, my breath caught in my throat and hearing, he moved faster.  His eyes never left mine.  He pulled back, plunged into me, his breath harsh in his throat.

“Come with me, tell me what you need,” he whispered hoarsely.

“I only need you,” I answered, lifting my legs to wrap around him.

His speed doubled, his brows drawing together into a frown as he surged against me.  Deep inside tendrils of heat drove my hips against his.  I pumped myself against him, desperate now, so close.  My hands flew to his face, our eyes locked on each other.  I cried out, shocked at the intensity of my orgasm.  He thrust into me one last time, growling my name and collapsed on top of me.

His arms were wrapped around my back, pulling me hard against him, my legs still twined around his hips.  He lifted his head, looking into my eyes.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“Ssh,” I whispered, “you’ll make me cry again.”

“No, don’t,” he reached for my hand, twining his fingers with mine, “I don’t want to make you cry.”

 After a moment he rolled over, disposed of the condom, and came back to me. 

“You’re working tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes.  Will you set the alarm for 6:30?”

“I will.  Can I take you out tomorrow evening?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled into my hair.

“Why would I hesitate?” I asked, “I’m hardly going to play coy now.”

“Good.  I’ll ring you tomorrow and let you know what time.”

He turned over, reaching for the alarm clock.

“Six thirty?”

“Yes.”

He turned the light off and I curled into his arm and laid my head on his chest, breathing in the scent of his skin.

In the morning, I leaned across him, shutting off the alarm clock.  I placed a quick peck on his lips and climbed out of bed.  I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face and braided my hair.  When I went back to the bedroom, Ben was lying on his side, awake.

“Come here,” he said.

I went to him, kissed him.  He reached for me, tried to pull me down next to him.

“No,” I said, firmly, “You’ll make me late.”

He sighed, “Alright, my lovely, until tonight then.”

I stood, looking down at him, his skin pale in the early morning light, his dark curls messy against the pillow.  It took all my control not to climb back into bed with him.

“Jesus, man.”  I shook my head, kissed him again and left while I still could.

I ran down the stairs to the front door, pulling my backpack on.  As I walked to my bike, I heard a familiar voice.

“’ello again, love.  And what’s your name?”

He followed me as I walked to my bike, snapping pictures, peppering me with questions.

I quickly pulled my helmet on to cover my face.  Jumping onto my Ducati, I revved the engine and pulled onto the street.  My heart was pounding.  And so it begins, I thought.

Moments later as I stopped at a red light, a car pulled up next to me, the window down.

“Come on, just your name?” as he held the camera out, shooting picture after picture.

I snapped my visor up, smiled and flipped him the bird, snapped the visor back down.

The light changed and I squeezed the throttle, peeling rubber off the back tire and whipping around the cars ahead.  I tore away, losing him in the traffic.

 

I drove so fast that I was almost 20 minutes early arriving at the worksite.  I pulled my diary from my bag and called Bev Klein who owns the company I work for.  We reviewed my schedule; I’d taken the coming Friday and the following Monday off to go surfing with Jem and was fully booked for the remainder of that week.  I told her I’d found a new client and gave her a brief run-down of the terrace at Ben’s.  We didn’t know yet when would be the right time for me to join him, but I wanted to set the wheels in motion.  Alicia was walking up the street, so I wrapped up my phone call and hung up.

“Good morning,” she said, sounding unusually formal.

“Hi Alicia.  How are you?” I asked.

 “I’m fine.  Look, Kai, I’m really, really sorry about yesterday.  About making you feel uncomfortable. “

“About being nosy you mean.”

She sighed.  “Yeah.  About that.  But come on, you must understand how cool it is.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Believe me, if anyone understands how ‘cool’ it is, it’s me.  It’s also extraordinary and exciting and complicated.  But mostly, it’s private.  O.K?” 

“O.K.”

I was relieved that we’d talked about it; that we wouldn’t be working in sullen silence all day.  I headed into the garden to get to work.

I finished running the electrical system and we tested the lighting and the water pumps.  Alicia had brought the plants in the work van and did trip after trip unloading everything.  By three o’clock we had finished and the clients had come out to have a look.  I walked them through the system, explaining how to check the filters and the other basic maintenance they could do without our help.  I was trying not to sound hurried, but I couldn’t wait to get out of there and check my messages.

 I said good-bye to Alicia and turned my phone on, skipping through voicemails until I heard his voice.

“Hello my lovely.  I’ll collect you at 7:30.  I can’t wait to see you.”

I listened to it twice, enjoying the sound of his voice.  Driving home, I was stopped at a cross street.  Ahead I noticed a little shop with lingerie in the window.  I pulled over and went in.  Half an hour later, I was back on my bike, a small bag of very expensive lace tucked in my pack.

 

Jem was at the café, so I had the place to myself.  I dug through my closet, pulling things out, putting them back.  Once I found a white silk blouse that I’d never even worn, the rest came together quickly.  I took my time getting ready.  I had a bath, rubbed my bergamot body oil all over.  I dried my hair and pinned it up into a loose, curly mass.  As usual, I kept my eye make-up simple – navy liner on the top lid only, pale gold shadow.  I dug a coral red lipstick out of my bag and used a brush to get it on evenly.  I cut the tags from the new lingerie and put it on; white lacy bra with little ribbon bows at the straps, matching high cut panty and black fishnet stockings.  Turning to the full length mirror, I looked at myself.  I’d worked very, very hard to silence my inner critic but when I look in a mirror, it still takes an effort to not focus on what I’d like to be different, but to try to be content with what I see.  As I scanned from the top of my head to my feet, I was surprised to realize that I thought I looked good.  In fact, I looked sexy as hell.   I looked confident.

I put on the white blouse, leaving the top three buttons open.  I pulled on a black pencil skirt and cinched a wide belt at my waist.  My shoes were black platform pumps with pointy toes and an ankle strap.  Looking at the finished product, I was pleased.  It was a cliché, but I had completely nailed the sexy librarian look.  I almost wished I wore glasses.

I still had a half hour until Ben was picking me up.  I went to the kitchen and almost poured myself a glass of red, but I didn’t trust myself while wearing the white silk.  I opened a bottle of white instead and walked out to the terrace to have a cigarette and try to calm down.  I hadn’t realized how excited and nervous I was feeling until I was dressed and ready and had nothing else to distract me.

When the bell rang, I turned the hall light on and opened the door.  Ben stepped inside, looking me up and down.

“Jesus Christ.  You look…Jesus.”

I could feel myself blushing, but I was thrilled.  I noticed that he was wearing an impeccably cut black suit, crisp white shirt and, as usual, no tie.

“We’ve done it again,” I said, “we match.”

“Great minds and all that.  You really do look beautiful.”

“Thank you Ben.”  Even wearing four inch heels I still had to look up at him.

“Are you working in the morning?” he asked.

“Yes, but I’ve managed to book myself a late start; I don’t have to be in until 10.”

“You’ll stay at mine tonight?”

“Of course.  I can take a taxi in the morning.”

“No need for that, just take my car.”

“Your Jaguar?  Don’t be daft!” I said with a snort.

“Have you already forgotten how we met?  After 5 minutes, you offered me the keys to your Ducati.  What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, or vice versa.  If you’re not driving it, it’ll just sit the whole time I’m gone.  Besides, you’ll need it when you’re working your magic on my terrace.”

“I’m hardly going to fill the back of a Jaguar with plants and bags of soil.”

“Well, perhaps not.  But take the car anyway.  I absolutely insist.”

“Yes, alright then, I will.”

“Good, that’s settled.  Ready?”

I gathered my purse and coat and he picked up my pack from beside the door.    We walked to his car and he put my pack into the boot then held my door open for me.  As I slid into the seat, I noticed him looking at my legs.

“Fishnet.” He observed.

“Stockings.” I confirmed.

“Oh my God.” He said, shutting the door and walking to his door.

I really loved watching him drive, his long, elegant hands on the steering wheel.  Between shifting gears he rested his hand on my leg.  At the first red light, as he downshifted, I moved in the seat, adjusting the hem of my skirt upward.  After the car got up to speed, his hand came back to my leg, encountering skin where before there’d only been fabric.  He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.  Staring straight ahead, I smiled.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I can’t remember,” he answered, making us both laugh.

“I’ve booked us the chef’s table at ‘Dinner by Heston Blumenthal’.  The menu’s pretty out there; I thought you’d enjoy it.”

When we pulled up in front of the Mandarin Oriental hotel, Ben turned the keys over to the valet and taking my hand, led me inside.   At the restaurant we were greeted by a waiter who introduced himself as Kevin and obviously recognized Ben. As he led us to a banquette opposite the glassed-in kitchen area, I couldn’t help but be aware of heads turning to follow us as we walked through the dining room.  It felt strange to be the focus of so many eyes.  Thankfully, the chef’s table was situated away from the main dining room so was fairly private.  As we sat, Ben ordered champagne.

Kevin brought the bottle, popped it open and filled our glasses, then left us.

Ben raised his glass, “To you, my lovely girl.  And to fishnet stockings.”

“I’ll drink to that,” I said, clinking my glass against his, “but girl?  Hardly.”

“Do you find that insulting?  Being called a girl?”

“No.  Just inaccurate.  I think I’m older than you are,” I said, turning to face him.

“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

“I suppose I should be flattered.  But yes.  I think so.”

“I’ll be 38 in a couple of weeks.” He said, frowning slightly.

“I’ll be 40 in September.”

He looked completely stunned.

“I had no idea,” he said, “you don’t look that old.”  He caught himself, stammered, “I-I don’t mean old, I mean…you look younger.”

“Nice save,” I said, wryly.

“Well I’m sorry, I’m just surprised is all.”  He sounded defensive.

I took a sip from my glass, looked into his eyes.

“Does it upset you, that I’m older than you are?”

He sighed, the frown line between his brows deepening.

“If I’m being honest, it does, a bit.”

My stomach churned.  Our waiter approached the table, but sensing that the atmosphere had changed, walked past without stopping.

“I promised you that I wouldn’t make assumptions about you,” he went on.

“And I promised you that I’d answer any questions you had truthfully.”

“I’m fully aware that we’ve known each other less than a week.  But you have to admit, it’s been a rather remarkable couple of days.”

“Yes.”

“I want children, Kai.  I want to be a father more than anything.  If I’m being truthful, it’s something that I’ve considered in every relationship I’ve ever been in.”

“And now you’re wondering if I’m too old.  If there’s any point in carrying on with this; with us.”

“What I’m wondering is how you feel.  Because frankly, it’s different for a woman, isn’t it?”

 I reached for his hand, twining my fingers through his.

“It is, yes.  I don’t know what to tell you.  In any other circumstance I’d think it was ridiculous to be having this conversation so soon after meeting someone.  The other morning, in the shower?  And then later, at my house?  I thought about it.  The truth is Ben, I don’t know.  I’ve never been in a relationship where it seemed right to have a baby, never been with a man who made me feel secure enough that I wanted to have children with him.  Is it too late?  I don’t know.”

He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb.

“Do you like children?”

 “Yes, I do.  I used to think about having babies, but the time was never right, and I’ve been single now for a long time.  But yes, Ben, I do like children.”

“Well.”  He hesitated.  “Well, that’s alright then.”

“Is it?” I asked, squeezing his hand in mine.

“Yes,” he said, squeezing back, “it is for now.”

I exhaled, feeling like I’d been holding my breath forever.

“I had to ask,” he said.

“I know.  And I appreciate you taking your promise to heart.”

“Anything else I should know?  Since we’re being honest?”

I pressed my lips to his ear and whispered, “I’m a ninja.  I could kill you with one finger.”

As he started to laugh, I knew the moment had passed and that for now at least, we were O.K.

Our waiter came back and asked if we were ready to begin.  The meal was amazing.  With each course we got a history lesson from the chef along with details of where each ingredient was sourced.    The food looked incredible and tasted even better.  It was like edible art.  We started with Earl Grey cured salmon and a second dish that looked like a mandarin orange but was actually a chicken liver and foie gras concoction.   We took our time, sharing bites from each plate as Kevin poured glasses of wine to complement each course.  The mains were pork with cabbage and apple confit and spiced pigeon with artichokes.  Plates came and went, luscious bites of this and that until dessert.  They wheeled in a cart and using nitrogen, prepared individual scoops of ice cream to order.  It was the craziest meal I’d ever had.  I was relieved that the earlier awkwardness had passed.

After dinner, we walked outside and stood, smoking while the valet retrieved the car.  Ben had tasted the wine with each course, but not finished a single glass, while I was feeling fairly tipsy.  He drove through the rainy London streets, clearly eager to get home.

As we entered his flat, he took me in his arms and kissed me.  His fingers went to the buttons of my shirt but I slapped his hand away and walked into the sitting room.

“I’ve yet to finish a single glass of whiskey in this room,” I said.  “What kind of host are you?”

Going to the drinks cabinet, he poured two glasses and joined me on the sofa.

“Here.  Hurry up and drink that.  I’d like to know what’s under your clothing besides those fishnets.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” I asked, getting up and going to the CD rack.  I flipped through until I found something I wanted to hear.

I put on The White Stripes, _Elephant_ and skipped ahead to the song, ‘Ball and Biscuit’.  It’s loud and raunchy and if I hadn’t already had so much to drink, I probably wouldn’t have had the nerve to start dancing for him.  With my back to him, I swayed my hips in time to the music.  I turned and moved across the sitting room, sipping from my glass.  He sat back on the sofa, his pale blue eyes glued to me.  As the first guitar riff blasted through the room, I started to unbutton my shirt, snaking my hips to the bass line.  Untucking my shirt and sliding it down my arms, I gyrated in a circle.  I moved over to where he sat, and pulling my skirt up, slid onto his lap as Jack White sang, ‘My strength is ten-fold, woman and I’ll let you see what you want before you go…’,  Ben reached for me and again I slapped his hands away.  He dropped them to his sides as I unbuttoned his snow white shirt, running my fingers over his chest and as the second guitar solo wailed, I climbed off him, moving away.  I danced across the room, reaching around and unzipping my skirt.  I slid it down my hips then dropped my shirt onto the floor, leaving only my underwear, stockings and shoes.  I picked up my glass, standing with the table between us and staring into his eyes, took a sip.  Shrugging out of his shirt and jacket, he stood, walking to where I stood waiting for him.  He wrapped himself around me, pressing his hips into me and moved with the music.  Feeling him, hard against me through his clothes, I felt sexy, powerful.  His hands moved to my hair, pulling the pins out and as it tumbled down my back, he brought his mouth down onto mine.  His tongue pushed into my mouth and I nipped it between my teeth, my hands unbuckling his belt.  I opened his button and zipper, sliding his trousers down his slim hips, leaving him in just his boxers.  His arm came down, his hand on my waist and I raised my leg, his hand slipping behind my knee.  I put both arms around his neck and he lifted me, my legs wrapping around his waist.  I clung to him as he carried me up the stairs, my lips at his throat.

He dropped me on the bed, falling on top of me.  He reached out, turning the bedside lamp on.  I threaded my hands into his hair, pulling his mouth to mine.  He ran his hand down my side, and up again, his palm resting on my bra.  He ran a line of kisses down my neck, buried his face between my breasts.  His hands went behind my back opening my bra.  He pulled it off, bringing his mouth to suck, hard, at first one nipple, then the other.  As his hand moved down to my hip, sliding inside my underwear, I pulled away. 

Rising to my knees, I said, “Take those off,” pointing at his boxer shorts.

I watched him as he discarded them.  I lay on my back.  He stood beside the bed, his eyes sweeping from my face to the tops of my stockings.  He started to reach for me.

“Come here,” I ordered, indicating my torso, “straddle me.”

He knelt over me, his knees either side of my chest.  I took him in my hand, stroking him and pulled him gently forward.  With both hands, I pressed my breasts up around his hard cock.  I took the head of his penis in my mouth and sucked, swirling my tongue around the smoothness of him.  He made a sort of crooning noise as he pushed forward, trying to get deeper into my mouth.  My saliva coated him, made him slippery as his length slid between my breasts.  He slowly pumped himself back and forth, meeting my mouth.   I let go and he moved down to lie on top of me, his tongue finding mine, darting into my mouth.  His hand once again moved lower, sliding into my underpants.  His finger pressed between my lower lips, slick and wet.  He pushed his finger into me, his teeth nibbling at my throat, and I gasped, rising to meet his hand.  His finger pistoned in and out and I pushed myself against him.  He pulled his hand away and reared up, dragging my panties down my legs, leaving me wearing only the stocking and shoes.  I sat up, turned around and pulled the pillows into a pile.  Dropping onto my chest, I raised my ass to him.  He was kneeling between my legs.  He ran a finger down my back, moved both hands to cup my cheeks.  He slid first one finger into me, then a second.  My hips pushed back into him.  As he stroked me I could hear his breath coming hard between his teeth.  His other hand moved to the top of my stocking, running along the netting.

“Jesus Christ,” he rasped, and I smiled into the pillow.

He slipped his fingers out of me and taking his cock in his hand, pressed it to my wetness.

Looking back, over my shoulder, I reminded him, “Condom?”

Panting, face feverish with arousal, he looked at me, hand still moving, rubbing his cock between my swollen lips.  His eyes were half lidded but focussed.

“I’d like…I want to feel you.  Properly, with nothing between us.”

All the reasons it was a bad idea whizzed through my brain and I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.  I gazed into his eyes and imagined how it would be to really _feel_ his flesh on mine.

My breath shuddered as I exhaled and I spoke as truthfully as I could, in the moment. “I’m not the one with anything to lose Ben.  I want what you want.”

He stared back at me and swallowed hard.  

“Fuck it,” he growled and buried himself full length into me, his hands wrapping around my hips

 

I was stunned, both at his words and at the sensation, his girth stretching me, skin to skin, but I was also too far gone to care about consequences.  I took my weight on my hands, rising onto all fours and drove myself back against him.  His hands dug into my skin as he set our pace, long strokes in and out.  He reached around, his fingers finding my clitoris and he pressed hard, circling, his chest against my back.  My head flew back and he sucked, bit at my shoulder.  He rose up on his knees grasping my hips.  With every deep stroke forward, our flesh slapping together, I cried out.

“Ben, I’m coming,” my voice a harsh sob.

I fell forward as he plowed into me, again and again, desperate.  His lips were against my ear as a deep moan curled from his throat and he fell onto me, panting.

He lay still for some time, his full weight on me.  Eventually, he started to lift himself from me.

“No,” I said,” don’t.”

He circled me with his arms, and still inside me, rolled us onto our sides.  I squeezed my muscles around him and heard his breath catch.  He kissed my shoulder.

“Ben,” I said.

“I know.  I shouldn’t have; I wasn’t thinking straight.”

I turned my head to look at him.

“It’s a bit late for that now.  Anyway, I was only going to ask if you’d take my shoes off.”

He looked down at my feet, chuckling, “Of course, my lovely.”

He sat up and I rolled onto my back.  He reached down, unbuckled each shoe and dropped them to the floor.  His hands went to the top of my stocking, rolling first one, then the other down and off.  Holding them in his hands, he said,

“I blame these.”

“Pfft.  Nice try, pal,” Rolling my eyes.  “I’ll make an appointment with my GP, get something sorted before I come to New Orleans.”

Lying down on his back next to me, he sighed, “Yeah.  That’s probably a good idea.”

I rolled over, leaning on his chest, “It is a good idea.  It’s too soon for us to be taking chances, and you know it.  We hardly know each other.”

“I feel we’ve gotten to know each other quite well, despite the short time.”

“Mm-hmm.  What’s my last name?”

“Uh…”

“Right.  And when’s my birthday?”

“September.”

“September what?”

“Point taken,” he said sourly.

“You’re wonderful, and we’ve had a really good start.  Let’s not ruin it by being stupid.”

“I bow to your greater wisdom.”

“Damn straight.  Now kiss me and turn off the light.”

Sometime later, as I was drifting off to sleep, he asked, “What is it?”

I knew what he was asking.

“Macbeth.”

“September what?”

“Twenty third.”

“That should do it then.  Anything you want to know?”

“If I think of anything, I’ll just Google it.”

I dropped off to the sound of his laughter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. On Holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben leaves for the States. How will our heroine cope? Read on...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the length of this chapter, there was a lot of ground to cover (literally). Hope you think it was worth it!

What You Put Into the World

Chapter Five – On Holiday

 

“Your coffee, Miss Macbeth,” he said, passing me a mug.

 “Thank you,” I said, taking a sip.

“You’re welcome.”  Joining me at the table he took my hand, his thumb stroking my fingers. 

He asked, “Do you always wear that ring?”

I looked at the ring finger of my right hand where I wore a wide, concave silver band that had ‘T&CO’ engraved on it.

“Yes, I never take it off.  It was a Christmas gift from my parents.”

“Very nice,” he said, “and the other?”

On my left middle finger was a silver starfish with a tiny diamond at the centre.

“I have an abject terror of sharks, so I bought this to reward myself on my first surfing trip to California.”

“Who doesn’t have a fear of sharks?”

“People who usually surf in really cold water?” I suggested.

“Point taken.  Do you prefer silver to gold?”

“I don’t take them off when I’m working and for some reason, silver doesn’t seem to look as bad when it gets banged up.  Anything else, Mr. Twenty Questions?” I asked, leaning back.

He grinned, “Not right now.  I took the liberty of putting your work clothes in the downstairs loo.  You’d best go get dressed; I have a few things to tell you about before my car gets here.”

I wasn’t even miffed that he’d gone into my bag without asking me.  I got ready, collected my other clothes from the bedroom and went back downstairs.  My pack was beside his suitcases at the front door and I tossed my things inside before joining him back at the dining table.

“So,” he said, “this is Robert, my manager’s card.  It’s got his office and mobile numbers and I’ve written his home number on it as well.  Louise, my assistant will be with me in New Orleans and her number is written on the back of the card, as well as the name of my hotel and room number.  Call me first, but if you can’t reach me and you need absolutely anything, they know to expect your call.  I’ve said before, Rob and Louise are experts at dealing with the press, so don’t hesitate to call them if there’s any trouble, O.K?”

“O.K.”  As much as I thought it was unnecessary, I was touched by his concern.

“Keys.  This fob is for the Jag.  Use it.  Take it to Wales this weekend.  Just drive the damned thing, alright?  These are for the flat, and not just for work.  Stay here if you want to.  I like the idea of you sleeping in my bed while I’m away,” his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at me, “and finally, credit card.” He slid a small envelope across the table, “Use this to buy whatever you need for the terrace.  Or anything else.”

“I’m not taking a credit card from you,” I said, pushing the envelope back at him.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t need it.  We have accounts, I’ll just charge what I need and the company will bill you later.”

“That’s fine, but take the card anyway.” He pushed the envelope across the table.

“No,” I pushed it back.

“This is ridiculous.  Bill me for the work, however you usually do it is fine.  But take the card.  Have some fun; treat Jeremy on your holiday.  Buy some more stockings for when you come visit me.  I want you to have it.”

“You are out of your mind Cumberbatch, if you think I’m taking your money.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” he said, frustrated now, “I have more money than I could possibly need.  If I wasn’t leaving, I’d invite myself along on your surfing trip.  I’d want to make things nice for you if I was there.  But since I can’t be, let me do this.  It’s no different than me sending you a ticket to come to the States.  It’s what I want, so I’m going to pay for it.  I want you to have a good time while I’m gone.  Kai, please, just take the card.”

I was annoyed, but I was also swayed by how sincere he was.  More importantly, I didn’t want to fight with him now, just as he was leaving. 

“Fine.”  I’d take the card.  I didn’t say I’d use it.

He looked relieved and very, very pleased with himself.  His mobile rang and he answered. 

Hanging up, he said, “My car is here.”

I felt sick.  We walked to the door.  He took a jacket from the cupboard and turned, taking me in his arms.  I breathed deep, trying to lock the smell, the feel of him into my memory.

“I’ll ring you every day.” He said.  “As soon as I’m sure of the shooting schedule, I’ll book your ticket.”

“I’m going to miss you.” I said, my voice catching in my throat.

“I’ll miss you too, my lovely.  It won’t be long, I promise.”

He kissed me good-bye, picked up his bags and he was gone. 

I shut the door behind him.  I felt like sitting down and having a good cry, but I pulled myself together and dug my wallet from one of the outside pockets of my pack.  Returning to the table, I slid the business card and credit card into the wallet and collected the keys.  I locked the door and went out to the street. 

Small mercies, the photographer who’d dogged my previous exits seemed to have given up.  I walked to the Jaguar, hitting the button to unlock it and slid behind the wheel.  I’d never driven a car anything like as high end.  I took my time finding my way around the controls.  Just to adjust my seat properly I had to find the manual in the glove compartment.  I finally started the car and sat, listening to the throaty rumble of the engine.  I shoulder checked and pulled out onto the roadway.  I’m fairly certain I drove the entire route to work with a huge grin plastered on my face.  It was almost as much fun to drive as my Ducati.  Maybe I would take it to Wales this weekend, it’d be fun to get on the open road and open it up.

I had to stop by my boss, Bev’s before I went to the jobsite.  I parked and got out.  As I walked down the pavement to the office door, I heard a familiar voice.

“Must be serious if he’s letting you drive his motor, eh Miss?”

He must have tailed me from Ben’s, keeping quiet before I got in the car so I wouldn’t know he was there.  I ignored him, kept walking.

“Just tell me your name, luv.  Inquiring minds and all that…” he was snapping pictures as he followed me.  I swung around, stopped walking.

I looked him in the eye and reached up, gently pushing his camera hand down.

“What’s your name,” I asked.

“Terry.  What’s yours?”

 “My name is fuck off and mind your own business,” I said, with a big smile.  He laughed, but immediately raised his camera, shooting more pictures.

I walked straight past the office door and into the shop on the corner.  I was hoping he’d give up and go away.  I bought some cigarettes and stood for a while browsing the magazine rack.  I went outside, scanning the street.  I had only a vague recollection of the car he’d been driving when he’d tried to follow me before when I was on my bike; a nondescript, dark blue two-door.  I didn’t see anything similar parked nearby, so I walked back to the office and went inside.

I sat with Bev, going over the billing for my most recent jobs and she cut me a cheque.  Once we were sorted, I left the office and made my way to my client’s house.  It was just a routine maintenance day.  I mowed the grass, weeded the beds and pruned the shrubbery.  At the end of the afternoon, my client, Dr. Beebe brought me a glass of beer and I sat and chatted with him.  He’s a retired professor of European history and tells surprisingly off-colour stories about long dead royalty.  Since his wife died he’s a bit lonely and it was our habit to have a visit whenever I’d finished for the day.

As he walked me out, he said, “The horticulture business must be booming.  That’s quite the car you’re driving.”

“Oh, it’s not mine,” I laughed, “It’s on loan from a friend.”

“I see; must be quite a good friend.”

“Yes Doctor.  I think he is.”

“Good for you,” he said, patting me on the shoulder.

I hopped into the car and called Jeremy to see if he’d be home for dinner.  He promised to be in by 6 o’clock, so I stopped at the market.  I got home, showered and was making a salad when he walked in carrying a six pack of beer.

“So Maple Leaf, how are you?” he asked, passing me a bottle.

“Honestly Jem, I’m reeling.”

“Good, bad?”

“Oh, good - great actually.  But…”  I started to laugh.

“Unusual?” he asked.

“You can say that again.   I’ve never met anyone like him, Jem.  And most of the time, it’s sort of normal; it’s me and him getting to know each other.  But, I mean…he’s Benedict Cumberbatch.  Everywhere he goes, people notice.  Everything he does, people write about it.  I’m having a bit of trouble wrapping my head around how my life is going to change if we keep doing – whatever this is.  Today, a - what’s the singular for paparazzi?”

“Paparazzo.”

“Right.  Well, one of them followed me to work this morning.  He’s the one that took the pictures that were in the papers on Monday.”

“And on Tuesday.”

“What?”

“Lovely shot of you on your bike, giving him the finger and the headline said, ‘Ben’s new bird gets Cumberbitchy’.” 

“Oh shit,” I said, “well, that may not have been the smartest thing I’ve ever done.  It gets better.”  I told him what I’d said to the photographer this morning.

He didn’t laugh.

“You need to be careful.  The British press can be awful.”

“That’s what Ben said.  It’s probably better if I just say nothing from now on.  Maybe if I don’t give them anything to work with, they’ll give up.”

He gave me a dubious look, “Don’t count on it.”

“Yeah, he said that too.”

I got the steaks and tossed them onto the grill while Jeremy set the table.  When the meat was done, we sat down to eat.

“I’m going to New Orleans.” I said.

“What?  When?”

“I’m not sure.  Ben’s going to send me a ticket once he knows his schedule.”

“We’re still going surfing though?”

“Of course!  Oh, and we’re driving up in style.  I have his Jag.”

“He gave you his car?”

I grinned, “Yup.”

“Oh dear.” Said Jem, and started singing an old Whitesnake song from the eighties, “Is this love that I’m feeling…”

“Shut up.”  I threw my serviette at him, blushing to the roots of my hair.

“Ooh, look at you, all red in the face.”

“I don’t know what it is Jem, it’s all happened so quickly.  And now he’s gone.”

He patted my hand.

“Look, come to the café tomorrow evening and sing with me.  It’ll get your mind off things and everyone would love to see you.  Then we’ll be up at Freshwater for three days.  Time will fly, you’ll see.”

“This is why you’re my best friend Jemmy.  You always know the right thing to say.”

“I’m just an all-around fantastic guy.  And, since you cooked, I’ll do the dishes.  Have another beer and get out of my way.”

I went into the other room and curled up on the sofa.  Turning on the television, I flipped through the channels, not able to focus on any one thing, thinking about Ben and what a whirlwind few days we’d had.   Jeremy joined me and very shortly took the remote out of my hand.

“You’re going to give me a seizure the way you’re changing channels.  Should we watch a movie?”

“Why not?  Pick something.”

He started listing off movies that Ben was in.  I rolled my eyes.

“Stop it.  I’m just realizing how weird it would be to watch anything with him in it now.”

“Especially if you keep picturing him with his kit off.”

“You think you’re kidding.” I said.

“Ew.  And now you’ve ruined it for me too.”

“I’m going to go to bed and read.  Good night Jem.”

I brushed my teeth and washed my face.  I was climbing into bed when I remembered that I hadn’t charged my mobile.  I grabbed my pack and plugged my phone in.  My clothes from the previous night were still in a ball in the pack, so I dumped it out on the bed.  As I sorted through the clothes, I found a small box, white with silver ribbon wrapped around it.  I untied the bow and opened the box.  Inside, on a bed of dark blue velvet was a silver cuff about two centimeters wide with tiny diamonds sprinkling the top like stars.   There was a note tucked into the lid of the box.

 _‘_ _Once upon a perfect night, unclouded and still, there came the face of a pale and beautiful lady. The tresses of her hair reached out to make the constellations…’  I miss you already, Ben._

I slipped the cuff onto my right wrist, a huge lump in my throat.  I turned my hand from side to side, watching the stones sparkle in the light.  I went out to the sitting room and leaning over the back of the sofa, held my arm in front of Jem’s face.

“I just found this in my bag.”

He took my wrist in his hand, looking closer, “It looks like a constellation.”

I brought my other hand up and passed him the card.  He read it and passing it back said, “I don’t know what you’ve done to him, but whatever it was, it’s worked.”

As I went back to my room, Jeremy started humming the Whitesnake song again.  I tried read for a while, but couldn’t concentrate and kept stopping to admire the bracelet, how it perfectly framed the tattoo on my wrist.  I finally gave up and turned off the light, thinking how it already felt strange to be sleeping alone.  I woke to the sound of my phone ringing and grabbed it off the nightstand, seeing his number in the call display.

“Hi.” I answered.

“Did I wake you?” His voice soft and low.

“Yes, but I don’t mind.  Where are you?”

“Dallas.  Waiting for my connection.”

I climbed out of bed, grabbing my cigarettes and walked through the dark house, out to the garden.  I sat outside and smoked while we talked about everything and nothing for over an hour. 

“Alright my lovely,” he said with a sigh.  “Go back to bed.  I’ll call again tomorrow.”

“Ben?  Thank you for the bracelet.”

I could hear that he was smiling as he asked, “Do you like it?”

“No, I love it.  And the card…”

“I meant every word.  I can’t look at the sky anymore without thinking of you.”

“Oh my god.  That is the single most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.  I miss you.”

“And I you, Kai.  Goodnight.”

I went back to bed and fell asleep with his voice in my head.

I blasted through work the next day as quickly as I could.   I went to the market and bought food for the trip then home to pack.  I organized my camping stuff and surfing gear and pulled the cooler out of the cupboard.  I whipped around the kitchen pre-packaging meals in aluminium foil for cooking on the campfire.  When I was done, I got cleaned up and hopped on my bike, heading to Jem’s café for open mike night.

There was a regular crowd who came almost every week as well as a few new faces.  It was a roots and bluegrass night and great fun.  I set my phone to vibrate and stuck it in my pocket.  I sat sipping a beer for the first set, but part way through the second set, Jeremy took his guitar and joined the musicians on stage.  He sang a couple of songs and then called me up to join him.  I sang harmony for a few songs, and then took centre stage, inviting requests.  Someone asked for an old Townes Van Zandt tune, ‘If I Needed You’ which Jem and I had done before.  After that, someone asked if we could do The Civil Wars’ song, ‘Oh Henry’.  Partway through, I felt my phone buzzing and was so excited I almost stopped to answer it.  I finished the last chorus and jumping off the stage, told Jeremy I had to make a call.

I stepped outside into the street, checking my messages.

“It’s Ben.  Ring back when you can.”  He sounded tense.

I thumbed the speed dial and he answered on the second ring.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It’s fucking bedlam.  The director’s someone’s nephew, he’s about 12 years old and I think he might be a fucking lunatic.”

If he hadn’t sounded so stressed, I would have laughed.

“What are you talking about?  Didn’t you meet him before, when you were cast?”

“Apparently, they’ve changed directors.  Yesterday, and it happened so quickly they didn’t have time to let me know.  I have a really bad feeling about this.  There are producers and guys from the studio all over the set.”

“And that’s not normal?”

“Not like this.  It’s like they’re all at battle stations.  I haven’t shot a single scene yet, but he wants me on set all the time.”

“What for?”

“He wants me to observe the other actor’s work, to ‘help inform my performance’.  It’s fucking bizarre.”

“Well, I’m sure everyone has a different way of working.  Maybe he’s just nervous.”

“Maybe.  Hold on a minute, someone’s at the door.”

I heard him open the door and then voices.

“Jesus.  I have to go, he wants me on set.”

“Ben, take a deep breath.  You’ve been there one day.  Just do as he asks, try to find out what he’s thinking.  You’ll be fine, you know what you’re doing.”

He sighed.  “Yeah.  O.K.  Thanks for talking me down off the ledge.”

“Call me back.  Any time.  I’m off for the next couple of days; I’ll keep my phone handy.  Unless I’m in the water.”

“Right, you’re off to Wales tomorrow.  Be safe, I’ll call when I can.  Bye.”

“Bye Ben.”

I’d never heard him sound so rattled; I was used to his quiet confidence.  I went back inside and helped Jem close up for the night.  We wanted to get an early start in the morning, so we both went to bed as soon as we got home.

By 7 a.m. we had our gear packed into the car.  We hoped to be at the board rental shop by noon, then we’d unload our stuff at the cabin we’d rented and hit the beach.  I’d completely underestimated the car.  And my willingness to drive it like it was stolen.  We pulled up in front of the surf shop at twenty past eleven.  Jeremy was impressed, and not a little terrified.  We rented boards and headed for the camping area.  We were meeting a group of friends, but they were already gone for the day so we unpacked, changed and hit the beach.

It was warm and sunny, but the surf was fairly tame.  Still, it was great to be in the water and the day passed quickly.  Back at the camping area, we gathered around a couple of fires to drink beer and cook some food.  We were a large group, 18 of us, with dogs and a couple of kids.  Guitars were brought out and we sat singing under the night sky.  It was lovely, but I was distracted, worrying about Ben.

“I’ll be back.” I said to Jem and went into our cabin to make a phone call.

He didn’t answer, so I left a message, “It’s me, just checking to see how you’re doing.  I hope things have settled down.  Ring me back when you can.”

He didn’t call. 

Saturday dawned cloudy and windy.  The surf was incredible.  I had just gotten back into the line-up after taking a bit of a break and was sitting on my board when I saw a really promising set heading my way.  I lay down on my board and started paddling.  I had just popped onto my feet when everything went wrong.  I had misread the waves and didn’t realize that a second set was coming in at a different angle.  I remember shooting up into the air, my feet leaving my board and then I hit the sea, face first.  I came to, someone’s  arm around my chest, holding me out of the water.  I was coughing salt water. 

I reached up and patted the arm, “I’m O.K,” I managed to say.

“She’s awake!” a voice yelled, and I heard Jeremy shouting in the distance.

The surfer who had hold of me pulled me up and I sat, straddling the board and trying to catch my breath.  We paddled into the beach.  Jem waded in to meet me.

“Kai, are you alright?  Look at me, are you O.K?”  He had my face in his hands, trying to make me focus on him.

“Let me get out of the water, I need to sit down.”

Jem walked me up onto the sand and I sat, a group of surfers gathered around.  My head was pounding; hitting the water can be like hitting concrete.  Someone passed me a bottle of water and I drank, waiting for the world to stop spinning.  I thanked the surfer who’d pulled me from the water; he’d probably saved my life.

“What the hell happened out there?  One minute you were standing up, the next you were airborne.”  Jem said.

“My own fault.  I was so focussed on the wave in front of my face, I forgot to look around.  Can you drive me back to the cabin?”

“I think we should go to A&E.”

“No, no hospital, I’m fine.  I just need to go and lie down for a while.”

Jem took me back to the campsite.  I had a shower in the bath house and crawled into my sleeping bag.  I slept for a couple of hours and woke, sore as hell and unable to turn my head.  Jeremy wasn’t the only one who thought I should see a doctor, but I took some ibuprofen and promised to take the next day off.  I was sitting at the campfire, nursing a glass of wine when my phone rang.

“Are you alright?  Are you hurt?”

“Um, hello.  Yes, I’m fine.  How…”

“Jeremy called me.  Are you sure?”  Jeremy must have taken my phone while I was sleeping.

“I have a pounding headache and I can’t move my head, but I’ll live.”

“What the hell happened?”

I explained, promising that I wasn’t just being brave.

“Mostly I just feel stupid for making such an amateur mistake.  How are you?  Are things any better there?”

“Never mind the film.  It doesn’t matter as long as you’re not hurt.”

“That’s very sweet, but how are things, really?”

“It’s a complete and utter balls up.  An unmitigated disaster.  This…this moron, whose name by the way, is Bart, as though that were a name for anyone other than a Labrador, is a nightmare.  He’s absolutely insisting that I be on set for everything and the studio is so spooked that they’re not arguing.  Kai, look…if you were to come, I don’t know if we’d be able to spend any time together at all.”

I felt a chill run up my back.  If I didn’t go to New Orleans, it would be months before I saw him.  My head was thumping and for a second I couldn’t think clearly.

“If you don’t think I should come…”

“I want to see you more than anything, but I don’t want to bring you all this way and have you sitting around waiting for me while this joke of a director keeps me on set 18 hours a day.”

Maybe if I hadn’t had a head injury, I wouldn’t have reacted the way I did.  On the other hand, there’s nothing like a near-death experience to give one a little clarity.

“Nice try Cumberbatch.   I’m extremely self-sufficient, so let me worry about how I’ll fill my days while you’re working.  I don’t care if I only get you at night and have to listen to you complain about how horrible everything is, I’m not waiting months and months to see you again.  Book the fucking ticket.  If you don’t, I will.”

After a moment of dead silence, I heard his deep, throaty chuckle.

“Tell me your email address.”

I did.

“How soon can you leave?”

“Tuesday.”

“I’ll book it now.  Good night, my love.” 

Only after he’d hung up did I realize that he’d said, ‘my love’, not ‘lovely’ as he’d said so many times before. 

I made my way back to the fire and found Jeremy.

“If I left a day early, could you get a ride back from someone else?”

“Don’t be silly, you’re in no shape to drive yourself back.  I’ll take you home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, besides, it’s probably my only chance to drive Mr. Cumberbatch’s flying wonder-car.”

We left first thing Sunday morning, Jeremy driving and I eating ibuprofen like it was going out of style.  We were home by 2 o’clock and I checked my email.  My flight left Heathrow at 11:10 on Tuesday.  I tried to start packing, but I felt so awful I ended up just going to bed.  I woke early on Monday and sat drinking coffee at the kitchen table and making a list of everything I needed to do before leaving.  I phoned Bev and asked her to reschedule my work for the week.  In the end, I found I just couldn’t lie to her.

“Look, Bev, I’m not going to be working on that job I told you about.  I’m actually going to the States to see a friend.”

“Yes dear, I thought it might be something to do with that.  I do read the papers you know.  Maybe just mention who you work for next time, I could do with a little free advertising.”

I rang off and looked over my list.  I needed some clothes.  New Orleans in July is disgustingly hot and humid and my British wardrobe wasn’t going to cut it, so I went shopping.  By that afternoon, I sat in my room, drinking a glass of wine and looking over my purchases.  I’d bought four summer dresses, a couple of light cardigans and a gorgeous pair of wide legged linen trousers.  I’d also bought a couple of pairs of strappy sandals, one flat, one high heeled and some lightweight t-shirts.  I packed my bags and printed my ticket.

Jem drove me to the airport in the morning.  I kissed him good bye and was on my way.  Ben had booked me into first class.  In spite of myself, it was something I could get used to.  The best part was that even though I had a seven hour lay-over in Miami, I got to spend it in the first class lounge, where there were showers and complimentary everything. 

When I landed in New Orleans it was almost midnight.  There was a driver waiting for me, holding a piece of paper with my name on it.  He collected my bags and we set off through the city to Ben’s hotel.  At the desk, I gave my name and a bellman escorted me upstairs.  He knocked at the door and a moment later it opened.

Ben stood in the doorway, wearing striped cotton pajama pants and nothing else.  He stepped out into the hall and kissed me on the cheek.  He tipped the bellman and carried my bags inside.  I followed him in, trying not to stare like a tourist at the room.  It was as big as my entire house.  He dropped my suitcases in the bedroom and came back to me, wrapping himself around me.

“God, you have no idea how good it is to see you.”

“Ow.”  I said.

He let go immediately, asking, “It still hurts?”

“Only when I breathe.  Let me take something and then you can catch me up.”

While I was looking for the ibuprofen in my bag, Ben called, “Can you have a drink?”

“Just a small one.”  I washed my face and finding his pajama shirt on the bed, put it on.  I went and joined him on the sofa.  He offered me a glass.  I took it and sniffed at the dark liquid.

“Bourbon.  Drinking like a local.”

Before I could take a sip, he took my face in his hands and kissed me.  I could taste bourbon and cigarettes on his tongue.  I leaned in to him, my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.  He sat back, looking into my eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

“So am I.  Now, tell me.”

The flood gates opened and he ranted for more than an hour.  He was absolutely at his wits’ end.  Bart, the director was driving him crazy with his insistence that Ben be on set at all times to watch every scene that the other lead actors were filming.  Ben felt that it was undermining the other actor’s ability to do their jobs and it put him in the awkward position of feeling like the teacher’s pet.  It was counterintuitive to the way Ben usually liked to work and also meant that he had no time to study his script.  I’d seen the script and there were huge passages of dialogue that he needed to commit to memory, which he’d never felt was his strong point.  I let him go on, asking questions occasionally, following him out to the balcony as he smoked one cigarette after another.  When he finally stopped talking, he took a huge breath and let it out.

“I think you need to sit down with this Bart and try to figure out where his head is at.  If he’s as young as you say, he might be feeling he’s in completely over his head.  And this isn’t your first rodeo Cumberbatch.  You know what you’re doing.  You have a process and you need to have the time and space to get prepared.  He needs to respect that.”

“Yeah.  You may be right.  Thank you for listening.”

“Any time.  Ben, I’m here for you.  I didn’t come for the sightseeing.  I came because I couldn’t stand to be so far away when you sounded so miserable on the phone.  I needed to see you.”

I stepped forward and put my arms around his waist, pressing my body against his.  He dropped his head to my neck, placing little kisses down to my shoulder.   I tilted my head, gently sucking his bottom lip into my mouth, and stretched up onto my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck.  His mouth came down hard on mine, his hands at my back pulling me against his body, his tongue exploring my mouth.  I pulled back, staring into his beautiful eyes, pale in the darkness.  He held my gaze for what felt like forever. 

“You must be exhausted, it’s six hours later for you.”

“I slept on the plane.  But you look tired.”  He had dark circles under his eyes.

“I am.  And I have to be on set in,” he glanced at his watch, “four and a half hours.”

I took him by the hand and led him through the suite.  We climbed into bed and he set the alarm for six o’clock, turned the light off.

I snuggled into the crook of his arm, my head on his chest.

“Go to sleep.  Try not to worry about tomorrow.  I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Knowing that will get me through the day, whatever happens.  Try not to keep me awake with your snoring.”

“Fuck you.”  I said cheerfully.

 

My body clock was completely confused, so I was awake long before his alarm went.  Ben was curled around me and I lay on my side listening to his breathing; so happy to be there with him even if he was miserable.  When the clock started to beep, Ben’s arm swung ‘round, knocking it to the floor.  He stretched, groaning, and sat up.

“You don’t have to be quiet, I’m awake.  I’ll order some coffee while you’re in the shower.”

He stumbled off to the bathroom and I got out of bed, stretching gingerly, my neck still stiff.  I called room service, ordering coffee and beignets.  By the time Ben was out of the shower, I was standing on the balcony, a cup of coffee in one hand and a pastry in the other.  He poured a coffee and joined me.  We stood watching a street sweeper making its way down the road. 

“How am I going to concentrate on anything today when all I’ll be able to think about is you in that pajama top?”

I held my beignet up to his mouth and he took a bite.

“I’m sure it’ll be awful enough to distract you.” I said with a cheeky grin.

“Oh that’s encouraging.  Thanks very much,” he said, but at least he was laughing.  “What are you going to do today?”

“Cemetery tour I think.  And I thought I might go to Faulkner House Books.”

“You’ve read Faulkner?”

“Yes, I'm always amazed at the way he can transport you in time.  I especially love _Absalom, Absalom!_ ”

“I’m partial to _Light in August_.   I cried my head off reading that book, but I haven’t read him in years.”

There was a knock at the door.  I followed Ben in as he answered it.  A pretty woman, with short brown hair and glasses stood in the hall, with a phone in one hand and a large leather bag across her chest.

“Kai, this is Louise.”

I stepped forward and shook her hand saying, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to put a face to the name.  Welcome to New Orleans.  Ben, our car’s downstairs.”

“I’ll be right down.”  He shut the door and took me in his arms, kissed me.  “I’ll ring you later, try and let you know when I’ll be back.”

“I’ll keep my phone on.  Call me if you need to have a shout.”

When he’d gone, I showered and got dressed.  I read the local newspaper and finished the pot of coffee, since the St. Louis cemetery didn’t open until 10:30.  I took a cab to the cemetery and walked around for hours.  It was hotter than stink, but somehow that adds to the ambience of everything in New Orleans.  The cemetery is beautiful; overgrown and crumbling and spooky even in daylight.  When I’d had enough of the humidity, I walked down to the French Quarter and found a little pub where I had lunch and a cold beer.  I set out on foot to Faulkner House Books.  It was cool and quiet inside and I took my time wandering through the shelves.  Eventually I made my way to the counter.  I knew Ben’s birthday was soon and now I had an idea what to get for him.

“I’m looking for a gift for a friend.  He mentioned _Light in August_.”

The man behind the counter had several first editions in varying condition, as well as two signed copies.  The signed copies were completely outside my budget, so I asked him to show me some of the first editions.  There was one, bound in dark green morocco with gilt lettering and in very good condition that I kept going back to.  It was $1300.  In a million years I would never have spent that kind of money on myself, but I wanted to get him something really special.  I pulled out my credit card and plunked it on the desk.

“Could you gift wrap it?”

I took a cab back to the hotel.  My neck was killing me and I hadn’t heard from Ben, so I figured I’d order room service and have a quiet evening in.  I hid the book in my suitcase, popped a couple of Advil and went to have a shower.  I walked out of the bathroom with a towel on my head, wearing his pajama shirt.  I went over to the cabinet to pour myself a drink.

“Hi.”

I jumped and screamed, the glass flying out of my hand sending a spray of bourbon across the carpet.  Ben was on the balcony, doubled over with laughter.

“I’m so sorry,” he managed to gasp.

“You scared the shit out of me!  What are you doing here?” I picked the glass up from the floor and took a clean one, pouring some bourbon into it.

Still grinning, obviously pleased with himself, he walked over and pulled the towel from my hair.

“I love the way you look fresh from the shower, with your hair wet and no makeup.”

“Thank you.  I love the way you look all the time.”

He took my face in his hands, pressed his lips against mine.

“You were in the sun today, you’re all freckly.”

“You haven’t answered my question.  How did you get away so early?”

“I got to the set this morning and I just realized I couldn’t deal with the bullshit any longer.  I called Robert and we had a conference call with the producers; it took hours, but we’ve hammered out some new ground rules.  Bart the Labrador Director no longer requires me to be on set at all times and I’ve agreed not to walk.”

“You threatened to leave?”

“It wasn’t an empty threat.  After talking it through with you last night, I realized that there was no way I could do my best under those circumstances.  I told them that if they weren’t willing to provide me with a workable solution, that I’d quit.  I’m not going to put forth a half assed effort because the director doesn’t have a clue.  I take my work very seriously, and I’m not going to compromise my professional reputation and my performance because someone thinks his nephew’s a director.  And it worked.  So thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything, I just listened.”

“No, you did more than that.  You reminded me that I do know what I’m doing; that my job is to be the actor.  Anything else that I was being asked to do was the director’s job and I’d gotten myself into such lather that I’d forgotten that.  I was so angry at how things were playing out that I’d sort of lost myself.  You helped me remember what I’d been hired to do.  So I told them, fix it or I’m walking.”

“Good for you.  I don’t remember saying all that.”

“You did.  You gave me back my self-confidence.”

“That’s because I’m your biggest fan.”

He looked at me.  “I can’t decide if that’s immensely flattering or just creepy.”

“I’m not going to lie; it’s a bit of both.”

He smacked me on the ass, “Go get dressed.  I’m taking you out to celebrate.”

I dried my hair and pulled it into a simple pony tail off my neck.  I put on a little mascara, my usual dark blue eyeliner and peachy lip gloss.  I wore one of my new dresses, soft pink with yellow flowers and with a hem just above my knees.  I wore my new sandals, light brown leather with ankle straps and a 4 inch heel.  I added a pale yellow cardigan and was ready.  Ben had changed as well, wearing cream coloured linen trousers and a pale blue shirt that almost exactly matched his eyes.

“Christ you’re beautiful.” I said.

 “That’s a lovely dress,” he said.  “I can’t wait to get it off you.”

“Oh my god, really?” I said, “That’s the best you could come up with?”

He had the grace to look embarrassed.

We had ate at a busy little blues club.  Ben had asked his driver, who was a local, for a recommendation; somewhere with good food, great music and not too touristy.  We drank beer and ate oysters, raw and deep fried and shared a huge plate of jambalaya.  After dinner we stayed for the music.  The band was on fire, a three piece horn section getting everyone up on the dance floor.  We danced and drank and talked with the people sitting around us.  One woman clearly recognized Ben and finally got up the nerve to approach him, asking for a picture.  He was kind and generous, telling her why he was in New Orleans and answering her questions and I took a couple of photos of them on her phone. 

We got back to our room around midnight.  I kicked off my shoes and poured a couple of drinks.  We leaned on the balcony railing, smoking and watching the people walking by below.  Ben moved behind me, one arm around my waist and I stood up, leaning into him.

“You were very sociable tonight.  Is there anyone you won’t talk to?”

“No, I don’t think so.  Anyway, if I didn’t talk to strangers I wouldn’t be here with you now.  I had a really good time tonight.”

“Good.  It’s going to get better.”  He slipped his hand under the hem of my dress, caressing my thigh.

I dropped my head back onto his shoulder, ignoring the pain in my neck, as he kissed a line from my ear down to the strap of my dress.  I turned to face him, my arms around his neck and he reached up, pulling the band from my hair and buried his hands against my scalp, stroking down my neck.

Even now, in the early hours of the morning, it was sticky and hot on the balcony.  I leaned forward, ran my tongue from the hollow of his throat down his chest, tasting salt on his skin.  He took my chin in his hand, his mouth coming down hard on mine, tongue probing into my mouth.

He lifted me into his arms and carried me inside, setting me on the bed.  He took his shoes and belt off and lay on top of me, his tongue pushing my mouth open, his hand stroking along my rib cage.  I ran my hands down his back, my hips slowly grinding against him, moved to undo the buttons on his shirt.  He pulled it off, tossing it aside.  He slid his hand under the hem of my dress, pushing it up.  His fingers found my breast, stroked my nipple through my bra, drawing it up hard and he ducked his head, pushing the fabric aside and sucked the hard bud into his mouth, his tongue flicking across the tip, his teeth lightly nipping at me.  He let go and drawing his lips together, blew a stream of cold air across the wet nipple. 

I moaned, reaching down to undo his trousers and he lifted his hips so I could push them down.  He took my dress in his hands and pulled it up over my head, throwing it to the floor, then undid the clasp of my bra, pulling it off.  He bent his head to my neck, gradually sliding down my body, drawing slow circles on my flesh with his tongue.  He moved lower, kissing my thighs, pulling my underwear down.  He pressed his mouth between my legs and I groaned as his tongue pushed between my labia, bathing me with long, slow strokes.  I had one hand tangled in his hair, the other fisted in the bedding, my hips rising to meet his mouth.  He took his time, his lips on my clitoris, stroking against my opening with the flat of his thumb.  I reached for him, wanting to feel his weight on me, needing him inside me.  He slithered up my body and I took his hard cock in my hand, guiding him into my wetness.  With one smooth stroke, he buried himself inside me, the soft growl leaving his lips mingling with my groan as my body stretched to accept his girth.  He wrapped an arm around me, dragging my hips up to meet him as he moved with me.  He circled his pelvis, grinding himself into me; my hands went to his hips, urging him to move faster.  He knew what I needed and placing a hand on either side of me, rose up onto his arms, thrust himself into me again and again, his strokes short, brutal.  My fingers dug into his buttocks, I was so close now, begging him to push me over the precipice.  His arms slid under my back and he reared back onto his knees, lifting me with him, so deep inside me it took my breath away.  I clung to him as he drove himself up into me and a desperate groan burst from his throat.  His hands clawed at my waist, lifting me, dragging me against him as I convulsed, crying his name.  

We stayed like that, our arms tight around each other, my muscles involuntarily clenching around him.

“Jesus, I can feel that.”

I whispered into his ear, “You did that to me.”

He rolled forward, pushing me onto my back, still inside me.  We kissed slow and lazy, content. 

I didn’t hear him leave in the morning, and woke late, feeling awful.  My neck was still painful, I had a headache and I felt vaguely queasy.  I ordered coffee and lay on the sofa, trying to will myself to feel better.  When the tray arrived from room service, I picked up the newspaper, looking at the date.  I started counting the days backward.  That’s just fucking fantastic, I thought.  I’m in New Orleans with amazing, perfect Ben and I’m getting my period.  I got dressed and went out to find a pharmacy.

I wandered the streets, looking at the old houses and quite by accident stumbled onto a garden tour.  I spent the rest of the day exploring with a tour group, wishing I could grow some of these extravagant tropical species in England.  I took a cab back to the hotel.  Ben wasn’t back, so I lay down to have a nap.  When I woke, he was there next to me.  I rolled over, putting my head on his chest, my arm across his waist.

“Hello Sleepy-head.  Busy day?”

I told him what I’d seen and done, then asked what he wanted to do for dinner.

“I have to go back to the set in a couple of hours, night shoot.  Why don’t we order room service and stay in?”

“That sounds perfect.  I don’t feel much like going out.”

“Is your neck bothering you?”

“Yes.  And my period has just started.  Sorry.  On the bright side, I’m not pregnant.  Hurray.”

“Right.  Well, that’s good.” He said, quietly.

I sat up, “Yes.  I only remembered this morning that I was supposed to see my doctor and sort out some birth control.  We haven’t exactly been being careful.”

“I know.”  He swung his legs over the side of the bed, got up and walked away.

I followed him into the other room.  He was facing away from me, reading the room service menu.  I could see the tension in his back.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t want to keep having this discussion.”  He turned to face me, throwing the menu down onto the table.  I was stunned to see that he was actually angry.

“We don’t ‘keep’ having this discussion, we’ve talked about it twice Ben.  Twice in two weeks.”

“And that’s enough.  You’ve been very clear, it’s too soon.  I fucking know it's too soon!  But, Jesus, ‘ _I’m not pregnant, hurray!’_ , what the hell am I supposed to make of that?”

“I was being facetious.  Mostly.  I’m sorry if I was flippant, but to be fair, I think you’re overreacting.”

His eyes narrowed and I was completely taken aback; he looked dangerous.

He headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I’m going to take a walk.” 

“Oh grow up,” I spat.

“What did you say?”  He turned around, glaring at me.

“I said, grow up,” I shouted.  “What the hell good does it do to walk away?  What exactly is that going to accomplish?”

He quickly strode across the room to where I was standing.  I almost backed up.

“Don’t speak to me as though I were a child.”

“Stop being so petulant.”

He stood inches away from me, his eyes cold, flinty.

“When you throw out a comment like you did,” he said deliberately, “it makes me feel you don’t understand how serious I am.  About having children.  And about you.”

“Obviously, if I’d thought it was going to upset you, I wouldn’t have said it.  I didn’t mean to make you feel that I don’t take you seriously.  I’ve never been more serious or more sure about anyone.”  I hadn’t even known it was true until I’d said it.

“Do you mean that?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

 “Thank God.” His face softened.  It was like a dark cloud had lifted.  “I was worried it was just me.”

“No, it’s not just you.  We just…fit somehow.”

“My Mum always told me I’d know.  She said she knew five minutes after she met my Dad.”

“Such a Momma’s boy,” I said, smiling, and then I kissed him.

He kissed me back, wrapping his big hands around my face, holding me to him.

“I wish I could have you, right now,” he said against my lips.

“Well, you can’t,” I answered, putting on a ridiculous accent, “but perhaps I could show Sir something in a nice blow job?”

He burst out laughing, “Jesus, I adore you.”

“And I you Ben.  I really, really do.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Getting Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving right along...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've come to a bit of a crossroads with this chapter, which will become obvious when you've reached the end. I'm happy to continue this story (even if it's become a bit more "romance novel" than I'd expected) and see where Ben and Kai end up next. Or, this can be the end for now...  
> I've started something new as well, which I hope to start posting soon.  
> I guess I'm just looking for some feedback - carry on or move on?

What You Put Into the World

Chapter Six – Getting Real

 

We ordered room service and ate, surprisingly relaxed after what was essentially our first fight.

“My car is coming at 7.  Do you want to come along?”

“Oh, I’d love to.  Are you sure it’s O.K?”

“I don’t see why not.”

It was even more interesting than I’d expected.  There were bursts of activity, cameras on dollies and swooping through the air on cranes; hair, makeup and wardrobe people going over details, electricians and sound people running cable all over the place, interspersed with periods of absolute stillness.  Louise, Ben’s assistant found me a chair and I sat back out of the way, fascinated by how it all came together.  Watching Ben work was such a strange experience, totally different than having seen Sherlock or any of his movies, much more like the immediacy of theatre.  He’d be standing talking with another actor or having his hair touched up and then the director would call ‘action’ and he’d be a completely different person.  His voice, his whole physicality would change.  It was absolutely riveting to watch, and for some reason, as sexy as hell.

We got back to the room after 2 o’clock but Ben’s call for the next day was late, so we had a drink and sat talking on the balcony.  I had two more days in New Orleans, and Ben another week, but he was already making plans for me to join him in Venezuela.

“You know I have a job?”

“I know.  Will you be able to get away again?”

“I hope so, but I don’t know.  I’ll talk to Bev when I get back.  I’ll let you know.”

He yawned, his head falling over the back of the chair.  He was slouched down, one arm behind his neck, the other holding his glass on the arm of the chair.  I quietly slipped off my chair and moved over to kneel between his feet, placing my hands on his knees.  He looked down at me through slitted eyes.

“What are you doing down there?”

“I believe I’m opening your trousers.”  I said, popping the button and unzipping his fly.

“So you are.  And why, exactly?”

 “Because that’s where this is,” I answered, running my finger along the outline of his penis.

“I can’t argue with logic like that.  You do realize we’re outside?”

I looked around. 

“If there’s anyone still working in that office building, they’re going to get one hell of a show.” 

I reached up, unbuttoned his shirt and ran my hands over his chest, stroking his nipples.  His head dropped back again as I moved closer, my tongue flicking around each of the hardened little nubs.  I took his waistband in my hands and he lifted his ass so I could undress him.  I smiled to myself, seeing how hard he was already.  I took him in both hands, clasping my fingers together and slowly stroked upward, running my thumb over the head of his penis.   A bead of moisture appeared and I licked it off, swirling my tongue around the head as my hands moved down.  I wriggled closer, pointed my tongue and dipped it into the opening, tasting the salty pre-cum.  I took him into my mouth, wrapping my tongue around him.  His hand moved gently into my hair.  I reached up, finding his other hand, and took the glass from it, putting it on the table.  I took his hand in mine and moved it to my head, urging him to show me what he wanted.  He pressed his fingers into my scalp and I let him set the pace, sliding my lips down his hard prick, dragging my tongue along the sensitive spot where the head joined the shaft.  I could hear his breath rasping in his throat and his hips started to thrust toward me.  I sucked harder, rising up on my knees so I could take more of him into my mouth.  I entwined my fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing hard as I slid lower.  I concentrated on my breathing as I felt him bump against the back of my throat, relaxing my muscles as a jet of saliva wetted my mouth.  His hands pushed me down and a groan rasped from him as he jerked his hips, sliding deeper into my throat.   I pumped him with my hands as my head rose and fell, trying to sink lower every time. 

I heard a strangled groan, “I’m going to come.”

I moved a hand to his balls, stroking, and moved my mouth up his length, sucking hard at the head as he exploded into my mouth, his hands clenching in my hair.  Drawing my other hand up his shaft, milking every drop, I swallowed.  I sat back, breathing hard and looked at his face.  He slowly opened his eyes, watching me.  I licked my lips.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached for his glass, took a sip and offered it to me.  I put my mouth against the glass; let him tip it forward until the bourbon trickled between my lips.

“Come here.” He said, his voice husky.

I raised myself up to him, opening my mouth to his tongue.  He stood, his hands under my arms, bringing me up with him and led me through to the bedroom.  He pulled the bedding back and pushed me down onto the mattress, falling on top of me.  His hand went down my body, stroking my belly, moved lower.

“No, Ben…” thinking he’d forgotten I had my period.

“Ssh, I know.  Let me.”

He pulled my t-shirt up over my head, unhooked my bra, searching for a nipple with his lips.  He sucked hard and I put my hand on his head, pushing him against me.

“Bite it.” I said.

He dragged his teeth over my nipple, his tongue swiping across the top.

“Harder.” I urged him, arching up into him.

He bit down and my breath hissed through my teeth.  He let go.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Yes.  Do it again.”

For a moment he only stared at me in the darkness, then taking the nipple between his teeth, pulled it up and out from my breast.  I dug my fingers into his back, groaning at the sensation.  He sucked hard, his fingers pinching my other nipple, twisting.  I ground my hips into him, feeling his cock hardening against me.  His mouth moved to my neck, lightly nibbling.   I ducked my head and bit down on his shoulder.

“Harder.”  I said against his skin.

I didn’t have to tell him again.  He bit into my neck, sucking my flesh into his mouth and I felt him undoing my button so I raised my hips and he pushed my jeans down.  I kicked my legs free and his hand was between my legs, scraping the fabric of my panties against my clit.  He bore down, rubbing his fingers into me and bent, nipping a sharp line along my ribs.  He sank his teeth into my hip and I bucked against him, yelping.

“Jesus Christ Kai, I…”

“Don’t stop.”

He moved on top of me, his cock hard against me through my underwear.  I pushed myself at him, my hands on his firm ass, desperate for friction.  He bent his mouth to mine, our teeth meeting under our lips, I moaned into his mouth.  He thrust himself at me, driving his hardness against me.  I twisted my hips, grinding against him as he reached for my breast, his fingers squeezing the nipple.  I exploded, fireworks in my head and I felt his cum shoot onto my belly as I cried out under his lips.

Neither of us moved for a long time, catching our breath. 

“I’ll get a towel.” He said, turning the light on.  I heard water running in the bathroom and he came back and wiped me clean.  I was still kind of amazed at how I’d gotten used to the idea of him seeing my imperfect body naked.

“Shit.  Kai, I’ve left a bite mark on your hip.”

“I know.  I felt it.”

“I’m so sorry, I got carried away.”

I raised myself on one elbow, looking into his worried eyes.

“Why are you sorry?  It’s not the first time you’ve bitten me, and I wanted you to.  I told you to.”

“I nearly broke the skin. I didn’t even realize in the moment.”

I looked at the bite, “Oh please.  It’s only a flesh wound,” I said with a smile.

“It’s not funny; I bit hard enough to bruise you.”

“Yes.  And you’d do it again if I asked you to.  If I needed you to.”

“Don’t be so sure.  I wasn’t in control.  I could have really hurt you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t have it in you to actually injure me.  You know perfectly well that if at any moment I’d said ‘stop’ you would have.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“We’ll find out next time.” I grinned as he cocked an eyebrow at me.  “Have you seen your shoulder?”

He turned his head, his fingers coming up to the spot where I’d bitten him.

“You’ve drawn blood, you fucking vampire!”

“Yeah, and did you even notice?  At the time?”  He shook his head. 

“Good luck explaining that to the wardrobe people tomorrow.  Good night.”  I rolled over and went to sleep.

Ben’s didn’t have to be on set until the afternoon, so the next morning we went to the sculpture garden at the New Orleans Museum of Art.  We strolled through the grounds holding hands.  It was lovely until I noticed a familiar face.

“Ben, do you see the woman in the red skirt, over by the bronze horse?”  She was taking pictures of us and not on her phone this time.

He looked over his shoulder, “Mm-hmm.”

“That’s the woman from the club the other night, the one who came over to our table to talk to you.”

“Yup,” he waved at her.  “Press I think.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“Not unless you want to.”  He draped his arm over my shoulders, pulling me close and started walking again.  “I can’t keep you hidden forever.  Anyway, I’m happy enough to be seen with you.”

I put my arm around his waist and we wandered through the sculptures until it was time for Ben to leave.    He seemed perfectly relaxed, but I felt like I was under a microscope with the reporter following us around.  I’d told him that I didn’t care about the press, about what they might write, but in the moment, I found it hard to ignore her presence.

Back at the hotel, he asked me if I wanted to go to the set again, but I begged off.  I still wasn’t feeling great and I wanted to touch base with Jeremy.  He didn’t answer at home, so I called him at work.  When he came on the line I could hear music in the background.  He put me on hold and ran to his office where it was quieter.

“How is it?” he asked.  “Are you having a wonderful time?”

“You have no idea!  Things with Ben are better than I could have hoped and New Orleans is as great as I remembered.”

“And you’ve been out dancing, visited him on the set of the film.”

I frowned, “Yes.  How did you know?”

“Photos, Maple Leaf; there are photos of the two of you all over the papers here.  Have you not been online?  There’s even a video of the two of you cutting loose on the dance floor.”

“Are you joking?”

“Kai,” Jeremy sighed, “this was bound to happen.  They were following you to work for crying out loud.  Someone’s told them your name.  They know you’re a gardener.  They even know you’re Canadian.”

“Oh my god.  Who could they have spoken to?  No one besides you knows anything.”  I thought for a minute.  “Alicia.  That photographer I told you about must have hung around Bev’s office until he found someone who’d talk to him.  Fucking Alicia.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.  There’s nothing to be done about it now, the cat’s out of the bag.”

“Yeah, I know.  Someone followed us today – the woman who took the pictures of us dancing.  Ben says he doesn’t care anymore who sees us together and I don’t either but it just makes me furious that someone I thought I could trust would talk to them.”

The more Jem tried to calm me down, the angrier I got, livid at Alicia’s blabbing.  I apologized to Jeremy for blasting him and hung up. 

I poured myself a drink and paced the room, stewing.  I thought I had understood how it would be.  Ben had warned me; we’d talked about it.  But it had seemed fairly innocuous at the beginning, nothing I couldn’t handle.  The more we were seen together however, the worse it was going to get.  I really wanted to talk to my Mother, but she was on deployment at sea.  I thought about calling my Dad, but something like this would be completely out of his depth.  In the end, I sat up waiting for Ben, needing to talk it over with him, to get the benefit of his experience.  When he got back, he was so wiped out that I just didn’t feel right about unloading on him and decided to wait until the next day.

He was out the door early in the morning.  I made myself go out and spent part of the day back at the museum, but my heart wasn’t in it.  I went back to the hotel.  I was sitting on the balcony when he got back a little after six.  He was absolutely beaming when he came outside.

“I’ve had the most fantastic day!” he announced.

 “Tell me all about it.”

He felt like things were finally clicking on the film.   The director seemed to be finding his feet, rehearsals had gone well and they’d shot a couple of scenes that Ben was really happy with. 

“Let’s go dancing,” he said, “I need to move.”  He was bubbling with excitement and his happiness was infectious.  We had so little time left that I couldn’t bring myself to ruin it for him, so I changed my clothes and we went out.

 

We had coffee together in the morning, Ben chattering away about the scenes they would be shooting today.  I was genuinely happy for him that things were going so well, but I couldn’t shake the gloom I was feeling.

“Hello?”  Ben was trying to get my attention.  “Where did you go?”

“Sorry, I was miles away.”

He reached for my hands, twining his fingers with mine, “Is everything alright?”

“Mostly.  I’m leaving tomorrow.  I think I’m getting pre-sad.”

“I see.  What can I do?  Shall I book us a table somewhere wonderful for tonight?  Carriage ride through the streets?  Fill the room with roses?”  His thumb stroked the tattoo under my bracelet.

“You are an exceptionally silly man.  Let’s stay in so I can have you all to myself.”

His lovely face crinkled into a pleased grin.  “Nothing would make me happier.”

Once he’d gone, I showered and dressed, trying to decide what to do on my last day in the city.  I’d just turned my mobile on to check my messages when it rang.

“Mum, I was thinking about you last night!  Where are you?”

“Middle of the Indian Ocean.  And you’re in New Orleans.”

“Yes.  How did you know that?”

“Because, apparently you’re famous now.  Or famous adjacent.  Someone showed me a bunch of pictures of you online.  When the hell did this happen, Kai?”

“Oh god Mum.”  I poured my heart out, telling her the whole story from meeting Ben to the conversation with Jeremy last night.

“So, you’ve known him for two weeks and you’ve flown four thousand miles to be with him?”

“I’d only known him a week when I did that.”

“I see.  Tell me about him.”

“He’s…he’s…well he’s spectacular.  He’s kind and genuine and he makes me laugh.  He’s intelligent Mum, sharp; he challenges me.  He’s a romantic and tells me all the time how wonderful he thinks I am.  He’s so goddamned gorgeous I can’t take my eyes off him and he thinks I’m beautiful.”

“Sex?”

My mother has been a nurse for 40 years.  She’s not easily made squeamish.

“Lots.  Fantastic.  Move on.”

“Good.  So why are you freaking out?”

“Seriously?  You can’t imagine what it feels like to be followed by someone you don’t know.  They’ve talked to people I work with.  They take pictures of what should be private moments and print them for the world to see.  I thought I wouldn’t care, I told Ben I didn’t care.  I thought I could just ignore it, but it’s getting worse, and I don’t know if I can.”

“Kai, pull your head out of your ass.  You’ve been lucky enough to find someone who sounds perfect for you and the whole time you were talking about him, I could practically hear you glowing through the phone.  You’re telling me that the only thing wrong with this man is that people want to take his picture?  So slap a smile on your face and suck it up.  You’ve worked so hard to change your life; don’t screw this up by doubting yourself.  Why can’t you just let yourself be happy?  You’ve earned it.”

I stood there with the phone to my ear, my mouth hanging open.

“Thanks Mum.”

“You’re welcome.  I have to run, my watch is starting.  I love you.”

My Mother had just given me a version of the same speech I gave Ben after the first pictures of us hit the papers.  I thought about that day and how I’d told him that I didn’t care what anyone thought,  and the more I thought about it, about what my Mum had said, the more I realized it was true.  I had never in my life been with anyone who made me feel like I did when I was with him; smart, funny, beautiful.  I looked at the bracelet on my wrist, the tattoo underneath, and decided that there was no way I was going to let my old insecurities destroy this new life I’d created for myself.

 

I spent the day exploring the Longue Vue house and its gardens.  The gardens were quite grand, each distinct in its design.  Some, like the Yellow Garden and the Spanish court were European inspired and others, like the Wild Garden, completely Southern in style.  I left feeling inspired. 

Back at the hotel, I showered and started to pack my things, since my flight was the next afternoon.  Ben’s birthday was coming up and we wouldn’t be together on the day.  I planned to give him the book I’d gotten for him tonight, but I also called ahead to room service and asked if they could organize something special for dessert.  I was in the bedroom when I heard the front door open.

“Kai, are you here?” he called.

“Yes, I’ll be right out.”  I quickly changed into his pajama shirt and ran out to the other room. 

He was setting his hat and sunglasses on the table as I came into the room.

“Here.”  He said, offering me a single dark coral rose.  “I’d have gotten more, but you can’t take them on the plane.”

I took it from his hand and inhaled the scent, “Corvette.  Thank you, it’s beautiful.”

I stepped into his arms and he buried his face in my hair, holding me close, “Why do you have to leave tomorrow?  Can’t you just stay?”

I smiled against his chest, “I wish I could.  You have no idea Ben how much I wish I could just stay with you.”

“Then do it.  Don’t go home.”

I looked up into his eyes, soft blue-green in the evening light.  He was serious.

“And do what?  Quit my job and follow you around the world while you’re working?”  I asked, sadly.  “I have a life too you know, and I love my job, I don’t want to stop doing it.  Anyway, can you imagine how quickly you’d get bored with me if I were around all the time?”

“I bloody wouldn’t.  I can’t imagine anything better.  But I’m not asking you to give up your job, or your life.  Not really.  It was just a pipe dream.”  He kissed me on the forehead.  “Let’s order something to eat, I’m starving.”

When the room service tray arrived, it was covered with a white tablecloth.  As the waiter placed our plates on the table, he whispered to me that the cake I’d asked for was on the lower shelf of the cart, hidden by the tablecloth.   Ben had ordered seafood pasta and I, mushroom risotto.  We ate, sharing from each other’s plates and drank a bottle of Prosecco.    After dinner, Ben went and sat on the balcony to have a cigarette and I went to get his present from my bag.  I pulled the cake from the cart and lit the candle they’d placed on top.

Shielding the flame with the book I carried the cake outside, singing ‘Happy Birthday’.  Ben looked embarrassed, but very pleased as I set the plate on the table.

“Make a wish,” I said.

“I don’t have to, my lovely.”

I sat on his lap, curling my hand into his hair and pulled him close for a kiss.  He made that humming noise against my mouth and I smiled.  It was so familiar now.

“Open your present.”  I said, passing him the package.

He tore the ribbon, ripped at the paper.  He unwrapped it as excitedly as a little kid.  He turned the book over in his lovely hands, running his finger down the spine.  He looked at me, his eyes shining.

“Thank you.” He said.

“Are you crying, you soppy git?” I asked with a gentle smile.

“Yes, I am, you soulless harpy.”

I giggled.  “I’m so glad you like it.”

He opened the cover, finding the card that the bookstore had included.  He frowned. 

“This is a first edition.”

“Yes.”

“But you shouldn’t have, it’s too much.”

“No it isn’t.” I said, lighting a cigarette.

“It must have been terribly expensive.”

“I thought you public school sorts didn’t talk about money.”

“Shut up.” He said, rolling his eyes at me.  “I just meant that, well…”

“Look, do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all that matters.  I wanted to get you something special, something that no one else would get for you.”  I held my cigarette to his mouth, his lips pressing against my fingers as he took a drag.  He exhaled, his eyes narrowed against the smoke.

“I love you.”  He said.

“What?”  I was floored.

“I love you, Kai.”  He repeated, taking my hand in his.  “I love that you gave me the keys to your motorcycle five minutes after we met, that you charmed my friends on our first date and that you swear like a sailor.  I love that you got on an airplane and flew thousands of miles because I was unhappy.  I love the sound of your voice, the smell of your skin, the feel of you in my arms.  I love you.”

I stared at him.

I finally found my voice and whispered, “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

He smiled, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear from my cheek.

“I meant every word.  I know it’s ridiculous and maybe I’m being naïve, but I don’t care.”

“That’s what makes it so amazing.  That you’re not afraid to tell me you love me.  I don’t live under a microscope the way you do, I don’t have to protect myself the way you do, but I didn’t tell you that I love you.”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do, how could I not?  I love you Ben.”

“That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Back to Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai goes home to London, back to her "real life" while Ben is away working.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was unsure about continuing this story because I didn't know if anyone was interested in reading a chapter with less Ben in it. After some very encouraging comments from other members, I just got on with it. I hope you enjoy it.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 7 – Back to Reality

 

I woke slowly, Ben’s long arms wrapped around me.   It was just getting light and I didn’t want to wake him, knowing he had another long day ahead of him, but my flight was at 3:30 and I had no idea when I’d be seeing him again.  I rolled over in his arms, tilting my head back to look at his sleeping face. 

“You awake?” he mumbled.

“Yes.”  I brought my hand up, stroked along his cheek.

He opened his eyes, smiling at me.

“I love the way your whole face crinkles up when you smile.”

“I’ll keep doing it then.”

I kissed him on the chin and got up to brush my teeth.  I sat down to take a pee and discovered that my period seemed to have stopped – 4 days; jet lag maybe?  I wasn’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth; I took a quick shower, wrapped a towel around myself and went back to the bedroom.

He was asleep again, lying on his back with his arm over his face.  I sat next to him and slid my hand under the sheet, running my hand over his flat belly.  I bent and placed a kiss in the centre of his chest, my wet curls falling in a cool curtain over him.  Goose pimples rose on his skin and I could see his nipples tighten.  He moved his arm from his face.  I stretched out next to him, running my tongue over his Adam’s apple, kissing down his chest to his hard nipple.  I took it in my mouth, sucking slowly as he took a handful of my hair and drew my head back to look into my eyes.

“Careful.  Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“First, I think I’ve shown you there’s nothing I can’t finish with you.”  I grinned, cheekily, “Second, my period’s done.”

His eyes lit up and he grabbed me in his arms, rolling me onto my back and throwing a leg over me.  Taking my towel in his hand, he pulled it off, his lips coming down hard on my mine.  My mouth opened under his insistent pressure, our tongues meeting.  Christ, I even loved his morning breath. 

His hand caressed my neck, moved to my breast, palming my nipple.  He moved on top of me kissing across my cheek and sucked my earlobe into his mouth.  I smoothed my hands down his back, and reached between our bodies, slipping a hand inside his pajama bottoms.  I wrapped my fingers around him, stroking him, pressing his hardness against me.  He groaned into my ear.  I squeezed him in my hand, stroking the head of his cock with my thumb.  His lips left my ear, moved down my body to wrap around a nipple, sucking softly.  He pushed my legs apart with his knee and cupped his hand over my crotch, his thumb sliding between my lower lips, drawing circles over my clitoris.  He took my nipple in his teeth gently, carefully pulling it further into his mouth as I arched my back to him.  His middle finger stroked against my opening, slid inside me.  He pulled his hand back, slipped two fingers into me and curled them forward.  My hips shot up as my hand flew to his forearm, pulling him hard against me.

“Ooh,” I gasped, “That’s new.”

He chuckled and repeated the motion, pleased at my response.  I groaned, dug my fingers into his arm as he speeded up, his fingers curling, uncurling against my g-spot.  I rose onto my elbows, bearing down on his hand, completely at his mercy and he slid down the bed, sucking my clit into his mouth, sending shocks of electricity through every nerve of my body.  I fell back into the pillows, utterly helpless as the waves of my orgasm shot through me.

Ben looked up at me, his eyes sparkling, “That was fast.” he said.

“That was award winning, Mr. Cumberbatch.” I panted, “Come up here.”

I placed my hands on either side of his face, kissing him, tasting myself on his mouth.  Bringing my legs up around his hips, I rolled on top of him and sat up.  I watched his face as he reached down, taking his hard penis in his hand and stroking it against me.  I lifted myself to him, biting my lip as he pushed into me.  I sank lower, breath hissing through my teeth as I adjusted to his size, moving away from him and then back down until he was fully inside me, hearing his sigh of satisfaction as I came to rest against his groin.

I began to rock my hips, slowly, slowly, wanting to drag this out for as long as possible.  Ben’s hands were on my thighs, moving with me.  I rose all the way up his length and squeezed, tightening myself for him, sliding down.  I repeated the motion until his hands moved to my hips, urging speed.  I thrust against him, falling forward, my hands on his shoulders.  His fingers dug into my skin as I threw myself against him, absorbed in his face, the way the sharp line between his brows deepened with his frown as his hips rose off the bed, driving into me.  His eyes shot open as his hands reached for mine, his fingers twining with mine; I moved faster.

He shouted my name, bucking so hard into me that he lifted me off the bed.  My back arched, my head falling back as I felt him release into me, my pelvic muscles clenching around him. 

I stayed on top of him, wanting to lock this sensation, the look of him into my memory.  His face was flushed, a fine sheen of sweat on his chest and belly.  I bent forward pointing my tongue and tasting his skin, landing at his mouth to trace the line of his lips.  His hands came up to my face, holding me to him.

“I’m going to miss you so fucking much.”  He mumbled against my mouth.

I lay on top of him, folding my arms over his chest and resting on them.

“What’s four weeks?  It’s nothing, right?”  

“Five.  It’s five weeks because I’ve another week here and then four in South America.”

 “Well.  That’s completely unacceptable.  I could live with four, but five is just out of the question.”  I tried to smile, to make light of it, but tears had started to roll down my cheeks.

“We’ll talk every day.  There’s Skype.  I don’t have my schedule yet, but if you can’t come to me, I’ll come to you.”

I rolled off him and sat up next to him, wiping my face with my hands.

“And if you can’t get away, we’ll just have to live with it.  What’s the time difference between London and Caracas; six or seven hours?  It probably takes a whole day to fly between them.  Even if you have a couple of days off, I don’t want you spending them on an airplane.”

“But I would.”

I smiled.  “I know.  And that’s enough for me.  I’m not going anywhere; I’ll be there when you get home.”

Ben got up to have a shower and I got dressed and called room service for coffee.  I was packing my bags when Ben came back into the bedroom.

“Why don’t you come to the set for the day?  My driver can take you to the airport from there.  Gives us a bit more time…”  He looked as sad as I felt.

“You’re killing me, Cumberbatch.”  I went to him, putting my arms around his waist.  “Of course I’ll come to the set.   Go have your coffee while I finish packing.”

Louise came to collect Ben, and helped carry my things down to the car.  On the set, she found me a place out of the way and I sat, fascinated once again at the nuts and bolts of how the filming was done.  When he wasn’t busy, Ben would come and stand behind my chair, massaging my shoulders, explaining to me what was going on.  He didn’t seem to have any trouble going from chatting with me to being in character; it was as though he’d flip a switch and he was someone else.

Ben was in front of the camera when his driver came up and tapped me on the shoulder, pointing at his watch.  I stood, taking a last look at Ben.  I didn’t want to distract him, so I found Louise and let her know I was leaving.  I was just getting into the backseat of the car when I heard Ben call my name.  He ran up to the car.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?  Rude.  Just appallingly bad manners.”

“I’m frightfully sorry.  I didn’t think the director would appreciate it if I yelled ‘Cut’ so I could kiss you.”

He took my face in his hands and placed a soft kiss on my lips, then on my forehead and on the end of my nose.

“Ring me later, during your layover.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“I love you.” He said.

I ran my thumb over his upper lip, stood on my toes to reach him and kissed him goodbye, properly.

“I love you, too.”

I got into the car and he closed the door.

I went home.

 

I arrived the next morning at Heathrow and Jeremy met me with a huge hug.  We put my bags in the car and headed home.  I unpacked and did a few loads of laundry.  I checked to make sure that the garden had survived my absence and for once, Jem had remembered to water.  I sat down with my appointment book and called Bev at the office.  Starting tomorrow, Tuesday, I was fully booked for the next two weeks.  She had a nice surprise for me though.   Ben’s friends, David and Elise whom I had met at the dinner party on our first date, had called and requested me for their new house, so I’d be starting there the following Monday.

I settled back into my normal routine easily enough, working during the day, dinner with friends or out to Jem’s café in the evenings.  My friends started to get used to my leaping up and disappearing when my phone rang, since Ben called at odd times because of his schedule and the time difference.  On his birthday he called when he got in, waking me up.  The crew had thrown him a party and he was quite drunk, which was hilarious since he told me he loved me about seventeen times which cheered me up for days whenever I thought about it.  Before my trip, I hadn’t told anyone about him; about us.  Since I’d been back, there had been questions.  I let myself open up a little, at least to the friends I most trusted.  I still found myself protective of him though. 

On Monday, I met with David and Elise.  They asked after Ben and I told them about New Orleans.  It was a relief not having to consider the consequences of every answer to their questions, since they were among his oldest friends.  We went over the property, making plans and I drew up a design for them on my tablet.  They were eager to get started so I called the nursery that afternoon and placed my order.  The next morning, I met the delivery van at their place and got to work.

There was an area against the back of the house that got little sun, so I put in a shade garden, planting hostas, toad lilies, and lungwort with its lovely purple flowers against a background of ferns.  I moved out from there, putting in a bed of hydrangeas in white and deep pink.  Along the back fence where there was the most sun, I planted rosemary, basil, oregano and thyme, along with alstromeria for cutting.  I put in a few trees and some shrubs in large pots so they could string lights for parties.  We couldn’t get any machinery into the garden, so I moved five yards of soil in by wheelbarrow.  It was sheer bull work, but I loved it.  I’d put my ear buds in, turn the music up and just get to it.  The best part was that I would fall into bed exhausted every night, instead of just lying there missing Ben.

By the end of the week, I was finished and they were thrilled with the results, inviting me to a party the following weekend so they could show it off.

That Monday dawned rainy and grey, matching my mood perfectly.  I’d been home for two weeks and at this point we’d spent more time apart than together.  He was in South America now and I’d had to tell him that there was no way I could get any more time off.  I was booked right through to September.  Happily for him, the film was going well and most times when we spoke he was in a good mood, but he was clearly missing home.  Missing me. 

“I know it makes me a terrible person,” I’d said to him the night before, “But I can’t help it.  It makes me happy that you miss me so much.”

“You are terrible.  Honestly, what kind of person would admit that?”

I chuckled, “Oh come on.  When I tell you how much I miss you, how sad it makes me that you’re so far away, it doesn’t give you a little thrill?”

“Of course it does, but it’s not the sort of thing one admits to, is it?  I’m happy that you’re sad?”

“It’s the truth.  If it makes you feel any better, I’m also sad that you’re sad.  Just not as much.”

“God you’re awful.  I can’t think why I love you.”

“It’s probably the sex.”

“Oh. Yes, probably.  But it’s been so long, I can barely remember.  You’re the redhead, right?”

“Fuck off.”

“Language!  Goodnight Sailor.  Sleep well.”

My week was booked with maintenance jobs, regular customers.  It would leave me with too much free time on my hands.  I hadn’t been to Ben’s flat since I’d been home, but decided to go have a look around the terrace and see what I could do to make it nice for him.  I unlocked the door and stepped inside.  Knowing that I was allergic to perfume, he didn’t wear any sort of cologne around me, but I could smell him in the room.  It smelled familiar and my heart leaped at the scent.  ‘Pathetic’ I thought.

I dropped my bag and hung my jacket on a chair, making my way out to the terrace.  Someone had been watering the plants and it wasn’t in as bad shape as I’d expected.  I did a circuit of the space, checking the direction of the sun and trying to figure out what he might like.  I made some notes and emailed a list to my friend at the garden centre. 

The next day, I took Ben’s Jaguar to work instead of my bike.  I’d joked about not putting plants in the car, but in the end I just took a tarpaulin from my camping gear and lined the back seat with it.  I dropped by the nursery after work and loaded up my order, even filling the boot with the larger plants and having to drive with the lid part way open.  It took a ridiculous number of trips up the stairs to unload everything and it was after six by the time I’d finished.  There was nothing to eat in the kitchen so I ran down to the Thai place on the corner and picked up a take away.  I put on a Jake Bugg CD and went outside, eating directly from the container and trying to figure out where to start.  I was dancing around the terrace, eating Drunken Noodles when I heard a voice.

“Um, hello?”

I spun around, my chopsticks halfway to my mouth to see a couple standing in the doorway.  It was Ben’s parents.

 “We’ve just come to check on the flat and water the plants,” said his Mum.

Stepping forward and putting the box of noodles down on the table I extended my hand, “Hello.  I’m Kai.”

She took my hand, “Oh my goodness, so you are.  I recognize you from your pictures.”

I cringed.  “Newspapers?”  Thinking of the one where I was flipping the bird at the photographer.

“Yes and the ones our son has emailed us.”

“Has he?  I hadn’t realized…”

“It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Tim.”  He stepped forward to shake my hand. 

“He has your hands.”  I said as we shook. 

“Yes, I suppose he does.”   I felt myself blushing.

“I’ve bought a bunch of plants.  Ben asked me to do something with this.”  I said, indicating the balcony, changing the subject.

“Oh, my husband’s the gardener, why don’t you show him what you have planned and I’ll go see if there’s a bottle of wine?”

My heart was pounding in my ears and I was thinking, ‘oh god oh god oh god, they’re staying’.  I took a deep breath and started to explain my plans to his Dad.  Wanda came back outside with an open bottle and three glasses.  We sat down.

“Well, I think he’ll like it very much.  It won’t require too much care though, will it?  He is away from home an awful lot.”

“I’ve tried to take that into account and chose plants that are fairly low maintenance.   I’ve bought a couple of soaker hoses and an irrigation timer.  It’s easy enough to set up since there’s a tap outside.  I have a sort of Tuscan garden in mind,” I said to his Mum.  “Lavender, flowering sage and rosemary because they smell so wonderful, lots of herbs and ornamental grasses in the low planters.   A trellis with cabbage roses against that wall, and I’m getting rid of those scrubby little trees and planting some dwarf cypresses.”

“Oh, how nice.  I think he’ll be very happy with it,” said Wanda.

“I hope so.  He was pretty vague when I asked what he wanted.”

“That’s because the only one in this family with a clue about plants is Tim.   But that’s enough of that.  My son is obviously smitten with you.  Tell us about yourself.”

And so began what felt like the scariest job interview of my life.  They wanted to know how I’d come to be living in the U.K. and I explained, omitting few details.  I’d expected her to be the tough one, but interestingly he seemed to ask the pointed questions, digging for details when he felt I wasn’t being forthcoming enough.

“You just left everyone, everything?  Did you think it would be easier to run away?” he asked. 

“I’ve never looked at it as running away, more running to.  I knew that if I stayed where I was it would be too easy to fall back into my old habits.  In an odd way, it was simpler to change everything at once than one thing at a time.  It allowed me to take control of my life in a way I never had before.”

 “Well, I admire that,” said Wanda.

“Thank you.”

“You’ve never been married?” she went on.

“No,” I said, grinning.  “Father, Scottish; Mother, Scottish-German.  No family history of heart disease or diabetes.  No criminal record.  And this is my natural hair colour.”

They both smiled.

“And how old are you, dear?”

‘There it is,’ I thought, ‘no point lying now.’

“Thirty-nine.” 

“I see.”  Her face remained completely impassive but she was, after all, an actress.

“Ben and I have talked about this.  He knows my age.”

Tim had put his hand on top of hers.  I wondered what he was trying to tell her.  To keep calm; that it was none of her business?

She sat back, sighed.  “I suppose it’s nothing to do with me.  If he’s happy then I’m happy.”

“I think he is.” 

My phone rang.  I picked it up and showed them the call display.

“Hello Ben.”  I answered.

“What are you wearing?”  Ben growled in a ridiculous fake sexy voice.

“A stunned expression I should think.  I’m having a drink with your parents.”

“What?  Where are you?”

“Your place.  They came to water the garden.”

“Are they interrogating you?  Is it awful?”

“Yes.  And no.”

“Could I speak to my Mother for a minute?”

I passed her the phone.

“Hello, Dear.  No.  No.  No, I’m not.  We’re not.  We’re not.  Yes, I will.  Of course.  I love you too.”

She gave the phone back to me, telling Tim that Ben had sent his love.

I stood up, walking inside with the phone to my ear.

“I’ve told her to mind her own business.”

“Oh good.  I’m sure that’ll work,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“I can practically hear you rolling your eyes.”

I burst out laughing, “Busted.”

“I’m sorry about the inquisition.”

“It’s fine.  Your Dad was actually tougher than your Mum.  Right up ‘til she asked my age.”

“She fucking didn’t!”

“Of course she did.  She was meeting the prospective grand-baby machine.”

“That’s my girl, cutting right to the heart of the matter.  Still, I wanted to be there when you met.”

“At least it’s out of the way now.”

“I suppose so.  They’ve just called me back to the set, I have to run.  Are you staying at my place tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I’m glad.  I love you.”

“I love you too, Ben.”  I hung up and went back outside.

“I’m awfully sorry if you feel I’ve overstepped,” Wanda said as I sat down.

“I can’t even imagine the things my Mother would ask Ben if I wasn’t there to monitor her.  I think it’s sweet that you’re still protective of him.  So are his friends and that’s a testament to the kind of man he is.”

That made them both smile.

“We’ve missed our reservation, but we should get going anyway,” said Tim.

I walked them to the door.

“It was lovely meeting you both,” I said.

“It was very nice meeting you as well, Kai.  We appreciate your honesty.”

I closed the door behind them and let out a huge sigh.  It was too late to get back to work outside, so I reheated my noodles and watched ‘Say Anything’ on DVD.  After the movie, I grabbed my bag and went upstairs.  The bed was still unmade from the last night we’d spent here.  I opened a dresser drawer and found one of Ben’s t-shirts to sleep in.

After work the next day, I ran home for a few more changes of clothes and left Jeremy a note to let him know I’d be staying at Ben’s for a while.  It was nice being in his space; I could almost pretend he was just in the other room.  Each day when I got in I worked for a couple of hours on the terrace and on Friday night I called him, to let him know it was done.  I got his voicemail and left a message, then settled in to watch some T.V.

I was lying in bed the next morning, trying to sleep in when I heard a noise downstairs.  I sat up, listening.  Definitely the front door – maybe Tim had come back to water the plants?  I crawled out of bed, and went to the top of the stairs.

“Hello?” I called.

“Hi.”  Ben appeared at the bottom of the staircase, a cat that ate the canary grin on his face.

For a second, I couldn’t move, I just stood staring at him.  Then I launched myself down the stairs and jumped into his arms, the force of my leap knocking us back against the wall.  His arms came around me and he picked me up as I wrapped my legs around his hips and kissed him.

“What are you doing here?  Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

He was so pleased with himself, grinning from ear to ear.  “I wanted to surprise you.   Are you happy to see me?”

 “Best.  Day.  Ever.” I said, clinging to him like a limpet.

“Is that my shirt?” His hand tickling down my back.

“Yes,” I said, goose pimples rising at his touch.

“Right.  Well let’s get that off for a start.”

 I reached down, grabbed the bottom of the t-shirt and pulled it over my head.  He leaned back against the wall, both hands on my ass and I watched his eyes run over my body, an appreciative smile on his face.   I was naked in the daylight, teeth unbrushed, hair tangled from sleep and completely confident that he loved me, just as I was. 

He brought his mouth to mine as I reached for the buttons on his shirt, yanking it out of his waistband and pushing it off his shoulders.  I stroked his neck with one hand, feeling the hard cords of muscle under my fingers as our tongues met. 

“Put me down.”

“Don’t want to,” he whispered against my mouth.

“I can’t reach your zipper.”

His big hands grasped my arms, wrapped them around his neck, “Hold on to me.”

He reached around my bottom and I felt his hands under me, heard the zipper opening.  He turned, stepping out of his jeans and pushing my back against the wall.  His mouth went to my breast, his hands stroking my ass and I groaned into his neck as I felt his cock bounce against me.  His lips slid off my nipple with a popping sound.  I cupped my breasts in my hands, pushing them together and he moved from one to the other, back again, sucking my nipples into hard points.  He buried his face in my neck, nipping my skin.

“I love the feeling of your skin on mine.”

“So do I.  I’m ready Ben, I want you inside me.”

He leaned back so he could watch my face as he reached around, taking his cock in his hand, placing the head against my wetness.  He slowly slid inside me, both hands on my ass, pulling me onto his length.

“Oh, I’ve missed you.” I said, folding my arms around his shoulders to bring him tight against me.

He shoved me hard against the wall, driving himself up into me, his mouth open, sucking at my neck.   With every heave he grunted, the animal sound making me crazy.  I rode him, my hands on his back, desperate to get as close to him as possible.  He lifted me away from the wall, taking my weight on his hips, thrusting savagely and suddenly his knees buckled.  He held me to him as we dropped.  As my back hit the floor, his hands came down on either side of my head and straight armed, he slammed himself into me.

I cried his name over and over as I came, jerking my hips up to meet him.  A feral moan dragged from his throat as he collapsed on top of me, his sweaty curls against my chest.

We lay panting in a heap on the floor.  His hand stroked my side as our breathing returned to normal.  I looked down into his smiling face, his chin resting on my sternum.

“You have a beard!”

He started laughing, scraping his hairy chin lightly over my skin.  “You’ve only just noticed?”

“I was a bit distracted before.”

He lifted his head, turned from side to side, “What do you think?”

“It’s fucking horrible.”  And it was; it was a scruffy, patchy, ginger mess.

“It is, isn’t it?  I hate it, but I can’t shave it.  It’s for the film.”

“Well at least they’ve kept your hair long.”

“Do you like it like this?”

“Yes.  I don’t like it short, it’s too controlled.  I prefer the sort of messy, Byronic thing.  It’s sexy.”

“I see.  But not the beard.  My beard or all beards?”

“All beards.  Unless you’re Ray LaMontagne.  If you can sing like Ray LaMontagne you can have a beard.”

“Have I mentioned that you’re awful and I don’t know why I love you?”

“Yes.  Have I mentioned that I think I’m stuck to the floor?”

He snorted with laughter.

“Let’s go have a bath, then breakfast.  I’m starving.”

We had to go out to eat, since there was nothing to speak of at his place.  We sat in the restaurant, catching up.  We held hands, sharing food from each other’s plates.

“How long are you here?”

“I fly out Monday night.  It’s a full day’s travel each way.  I was lucky to get any time off at all.”

“I know.  I’d be happy even if we only had an hour.  Three days is wonderful.”

“Let’s go to the shops and pick up a few things.  Then we don’t have to go out again.”

“That sounds perfect.  Oh, no.  I’m supposed to go to a party tonight.”

“Do you have to go?”

“It’s David and Elise.  They’re christening their new garden.”

“You’ve been invited to a party by my friends?”  He looked pleased. 

“It would be a nice surprise for them to see you.  We can go for an hour and then sneak out.”

We picked up some food for the flat and an extra bottle to take along tonight. When we got home from the shops, I showed him what I’d done to the terrace.   He couldn’t believe the transformation.  I had to admit that I was very proud of myself; it was so much cosier, more intimate.

“You’ll be happy to know I used your credit card to pay for the supplies.  You owe me for the labour.”

“Do I?  I seem to recall you saying your services don’t come cheaply.”

“I’ll take it out of you in trade.  Later.”

We took a cab to David and Elise’s.  We had planned have a bite to eat and make a quick exit, but everyone was so pleased Ben was there that it was impossible to get away.  There were about a dozen adults, including Oliver and Victoria whom I’d met at the dinner party on our first date and a group of children playing on the grass.  Oliver was as friendly and funny as the first time we’d met, and Victoria still standoffish.  I knew nothing I could say would change her mind about me, so I cheerfully ignored her.

After everyone had eaten, Elise and I sat side by side in lawn chairs, watching Ben wrestling on the grass with a couple of the little boys.

“He’s really in his element, isn’t he?” Elise asked.

“You can say that again.”  I said as Ben lifted one of the boys over his head and started to run in circles, chasing the other boy. 

“How about you?  Are you good with children?” she asked.

 “Oh my god, not you too?”  

“Leave her alone Elise,” called Ben as he ran past us, “She’s already been interrogated by my real mother.”

I told Elise about my conversation with his parents.

“Oh my goodness, how absolutely terrifying.”

“Actually, it was good to be able to answer their questions myself; straight from the horse’s mouth.”

Ben came over and knelt in front of me, taking my glass of wine and draining it.

“Is there more of this Elise?  It’s very good.”

“In the ice bucket, help yourself.”

He returned a moment later with a bottle and a second glass.  He plopped himself on the grass in front of me, his back against my shins and watched the kids playing.  I ruffled the curls at the back of his head with my fingers and he dropped his head back onto my knees, inviting a kiss.  I leaned over placing my mouth on his, trying to ignore the beard as it tickled my nose.

“Knock it off you two, you’re making us old married couples look bad.”

“Sorry Oliver,” Ben took my hand in his, “I can’t help myself.”

He sat on the grass next to Ben.  “Maybe I should look for a job that requires more travel.”

“How can I miss you if you won’t go away?”  I asked with a grin.

He snickered, “Exactly.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be mate.” said Ben.  “At least my next project is being filmed here.”

“Is it?”  I asked.  “Well, that’s good news.”

“You didn’t even ask what he was doing next?  Jesus, Vic wants to know how long I’ll be gone and what route I’ll be driving when I go to the gym.”

“I was so focussed on how long you were away this time that I never even thought to ask.  I’m so, so sorry.”  I squeezed his hand, completely embarrassed.

“Let me get this straight,” said Oliver.  “You’ve been missing him so much that you never even thought to ask about the next time you’d be apart?  And now you’re blushing, which may be the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen a grown woman do.  I might actually be sick.”

“And she has freckles on her knees,” said Ben, flipping up the hem of my skirt.  “Look.”

“Yup, that’s done it, definitely going to vomit.  Is there anything stronger than wine, Elise?”

She and Oliver went into the house to search the drinks cabinet.

“Are you really going to be working at home for a while?”

“Yes, for a few months.  I’ve got a film to do and then a play.  I’ll be busy; very busy with rehearsals, but at least I’ll be around.  You’re going to get completely sick of me.”

“I don’t think so.”

Oliver rejoined us with a bottle of whiskey and poured it liberally into our empty glasses.  As darkness fell, the kids were put to bed and David put on some soft music and turned on the lights strung throughout the trees.  It was magical.  Ben pulled me up out of my chair, taking me in his arms, holding me close as we danced on the grass.  We stayed much later than we’d intended and thanks to Oliver keeping our glasses full, drank rather a lot.

We stumbled into the flat, giggling at Ben's dead-on impression of the cab driver.  We went upstairs, Ben letting me use the loo first.  I brushed my teeth and leaving the light on for him, went back to the bedroom, undressed and climbed into bed.  I was lying on my stomach, propped up on my elbows, trying to read a magazine when he came in, completely naked.  He walked over to my side of the bed and flipped the sheet off me.

“You have the most splendid arse.”  He announced.

I turned my head to look at him over my shoulder.

“Is that right?”  I asked.

“Mm-hmm.  Like an apple.”

He trailed a finger down my spine to the crease at the top of my bum and stopped.  He climbed on top of me, his hands kneading the muscles of my back, slowly working their way lower.  I craned my neck around to look at him.

 “Do you trust me?” He asked, slurring slightly.

I was pretty tipsy, but I had a good idea what he was getting at.  “Of course I do.”

His hands were stroking my buttocks and he bent, kissing a line up my back, his lips landing at my ear.

“You can say no if you don’t want me to,” his voice soft and low, “but I want to fuck your ass.”

I shivered at the words, his voice.

“Yes.”  I whispered.

He wrapped my hair around his hand, pulling it out of the way and pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue pushing between my lips.  His fingertips tickled down my side to my thigh, back up again.

“In New Orleans, the night I bit you?”

“Yes?”

“I was upset because I thought I’d hurt you, but you said I’d do it again if you wanted me to.  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that,” he breathed into my ear.

“Good.  Do it.  I want you to.”

He lay flat on top of me; his cock nestled against my ass, his hand reaching around to cup my breast.  He licked circles across my back as his fingers teased, pinched my nipple.  I pressed my ass up against his groin, feeling him harden against me.  His hand left my breast, slid down my belly.  One finger slipped inside my folds, circling in the slickness it found.

“How are you so wet?”

“Your voice.  It’s your voice.”

“I’m going to put my fingers inside you.  I’m going to fuck you with my hand until you come all over me.”

“Ohh, Jesus…” I moaned, my hips rolling against him.

He pulled his hand from under me and slid it between my legs from behind, shoving my legs apart with his knee.  He stroked against me with the flat of his index finger pushing between my slippery lower lips.  The tip of his finger circled my opening, dipped inside, and pulled back.

“Is that what you want?  Tell me.”

“Yes, I want your fingers inside me.”

One long finger probed my wetness, sliding languidly in and out, then a second. I gasped as he slowly rotated his hand, twisting it into me.  He raised himself off me so he could get his other hand under me from the front, lifting me into his fingers, grinding them over my clit.  His fingers snaked in and out, and I pushed myself hard against them as his teeth scraped along my back.  He sucked my skin between his teeth, and as he bit down he shoved a third finger into me.  He ground his hand into me and I pulled myself up onto my knees, my face mashed into the pillow, muffling my groans.  He was kneeling behind me, watching his fingers as they brought me closer to orgasm.  His finger left my clit and I felt it, slick with my own moisture, pressing against my anus.  He pushed, his finger sliding into me, and he leaned over, sinking his teeth into my buttock. 

I threw myself back against him, muscles straining, clenching as I started to come.  His fingers disappeared and he slammed his cock into my pussy to the hilt.  I cried out at the sensation, the pleasure of him filling me, the pain of his fingers digging into the muscles of my hips as he drove himself repeatedly into me, I shuddered as wave after wave swept through me.

He pulled out, rolled across the bed and dug a condom from the bedside table.  He held it out to me between two fingers and I took it, tore it open with my teeth and passed it back.  He rolled the condom on and moved to kneel between my legs.  He rubbed the head of his penis against my wetness, sliding easily back inside me.  He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me up, my back against his chest.  He buried his face in my neck, nipping sharply with his teeth, his beard scraping against the tender skin.  His fingers were on my nipples, pinching, twisting.  I reached with my hand to grasp the back of his neck, pulling his mouth tighter to my skin.  He bit my shoulder, hard.  My eyes flew open at the shock as I involuntarily jerked away.  He tangled his hand into my hair and yanked my head back, biting me again.

“Good?” he growled against my skin.

“Yes, keep going.”  I whispered, squeezing myself tight around his hard length.

He lowered me forward onto the pillows, putting his hand between my legs then started stroking between my buttocks, transferring the wetness from his fingers.  His cock still deep inside me, he pushed a finger into my ass, jacking it slowly in and out.  Then two fingers pressing into the tightness, stretching me.  I took a deep breath, trying to not tense up.  He pulled his hips back and I felt his prick come to rest against his fingers.

“This is going to hurt.”

“I know.”

He started pushing, guiding himself with his hand and I inhaled sharply as the head of his cock entered my ass.  He waited.

“Don’t stop.”  I looked over my shoulder, locking eyes with him. 

“Jesus.” He sighed.

He worked his way deeper inside me, short, slow strokes so I could try to get used to the size of him.  He reached around, his fingers fondling my clit, the intensity enhanced by the pain and he suddenly pulled back, then drove his full length into me and I heard myself whimper as I fell forward onto the pillows, my ass tight against him, around him.

He gripped my hips, setting his rhythm as his breath rasped from his throat.  Each time he sank himself into me I cried out at the sensation, the sharp ache as he stretched me mingled with the thrill of our excitement.  He started to growl, moving faster, our skin slapping together as he lost control, pounding at me in a frenzy.  I tasted blood as I bit my lip, keening through my teeth at the pain.  His weight came down on my back, driving me into the mattress and with his final thrust he bit the back of my neck, holding me still as he lay, shaking, on top of me.

 

“Are you alright?”

“I think so.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Water.  And a cigarette please.”

He carefully pulled out of me, pulled the duvet over me and went to the bathroom.  I heard water running as he washed his hands then he pulled his robe from the back of the door and went downstairs.  He returned with a glass of sparkling water, cigarettes and lighter in his other hand.

He climbed back into bed, “Here, sit up.”

I snorted, “You sit up.  I’m just going to lie here.”  I reached for the glass, grinning to let him know I was teasing.

He passed it to me with a rueful smile.  I took a sip, wincing as the bubbles burned against the spot where I’d bitten my lip and passed the glass back to him.  He took a drink and put the glass on the nightstand.  He lit two cigarettes, passing me one and taking the ashtray from the nightstand, set it on the bed between us.  He inhaled, watching me, his eyes narrowed against the cigarette smoke.

“I’ve never done that before,” he said.

“Neither have I.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hate it?”

I would have laughed if he hadn’t looked so serious.

“Did it feel to you as though I hated it?  Could you really not tell?”

He moved down the bed, lying on his side, propped on his elbow facing me.  I could practically see the wheels turning as he tried to articulate what he was thinking.

“Every time we make love I’m surprised by my response to you.  Not because I don’t think you’re beautiful, you know I do, but because I lose myself in you.  I don’t think; I just react.”

“But that’s…”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted, “I’m trying to figure out how to say this.”

I put my cigarette out and watched his face, his forehead creased in thought.

“That’s why I freaked out in New Orleans, when I bit your hip.  I was actually afraid that I could hurt you and in the moment, not even realize it.  When you said I’d do it again, if you asked me to, I knew it was true; I would do anything you asked of me.  That’s what I meant when I said I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  I was excited by it, but it also made me wonder; do you really like it?  When I hurt you?  Or is it just that you don’t want to tell me to stop because you know I’m turned on by it?”

“Are you asking me if I’m letting you do things I don’t like because I want to make you happy?”

“Yes.”

Now I did sit up, so I could look him in the eye.

“No.  Jesus Christ, Benedict, I get as caught up in you as you do in me.  I’m not laying there thinking ‘what should I do next?’  I’m not really thinking at all.  I’m just doing whatever feels right.  If I do something and it seems as though you like it, I do it again.  But I’ve never done anything I didn’t want to do.  I’ve never let anyone do the things I’ve asked you to do to me.  If I didn’t trust you completely I wouldn’t feel safe enough to ask for what I want.  I didn’t even know that was something I wanted, needed even, until you.  You’re the sweetest, gentlest, most loving and generous man I’ve ever known.  That’s why it’s so exciting for me when you lose control, when that other side of you comes out.  I know that I’m making that happen, that you can’t help yourself and I love that.”

“You’d tell me, stop me if I ever did something you didn’t want?  Went too far.”

“In a hot second.  If it makes you feel better, we can pick a safe word, something I’d never in a million years say in bed.  If you ever hear it, you just stop.”

He snickered, “Squid.”

I cracked up, “Yes, squid.  No chance of saying that by accident.”


	8. Future Imperfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai and Ben begin to realize that maybe they don't know each other as well as they thought...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter finished - summertime, relatives visiting, busy, busy, busy. 
> 
> The good news (for those of you who've enjoyed the story thus far) is that I couldn't figure out where to break this chapter, so I've already got a couple of thousand words written that I've made into the start of chapter nine.
> 
> As ever, I invite comments, suggestions etc.  
> Enjoy!  
> E.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 8 – Future Imperfect

 

 

We slept late on Sunday morning.  I was in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil.  I pulled my phone from my purse and hit the speed dial for Bev, my boss. 

“Bev,” I said when she picked up, “it’s Kai.”

“Hello there, what’s up?”

“Would I be leaving you completely in the lurch if I didn’t come in tomorrow?”

“Are you ill?”

I told her about Ben flying in for the weekend.

“He’s leaving tomorrow night, so I’d really like to be able to spend the day with him.”

She sighed.  “I can move a few things around, so it should be fine.  But I have to ask, is this how things are going to be from here on?  I’m sure it’s complicated with him working all over the world, but I have a company to run, clients that rely on me and I need to be able to rely on you.”

“I know, Bev, and I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t special circumstances.  You know I love working for you and the reality is I need the money.  Ben’s going to be working here at home for a couple of months so August and September should be business as usual and work slows down for us after that.   Other than that, I don’t know what to tell you.  I have no idea what’s going to happen next.  I’m flying by the seat of my pants here.”

“Alright, my dear, take tomorrow.  Let’s just get through the rest of the summer and we’ll see where we are then, OK?”

“Thanks Bev, you’re a peach!”

I hung up and reached into the cupboard for the coffee.  Ben was standing in the doorway.

“Good morning, coffee will be ready in 5 minutes.”   I measured the grounds into the press and poured boiling water over them.

“I heard your end of that conversation.  Did I get you in trouble?”

“Bev’s one of the first people I met when I moved here and I wouldn’t have gotten my visa if she hadn’t hired me.  I have a responsibility to her.” I took a couple of cups from the cupboard, “So, no, I’m not in trouble but she has a right to expect me to show up when I’m scheduled.  And usually, in my business you don’t expect to take holidays over the busy seasons and I’ve already taken time off to go surfing and to see you in the States.”

“I can’t promise it’s going to get any easier.  Unless you’ve always dreamed of visiting Prague in January.”

“That’s amazing, how could you possibly know that?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “Would you like to come to Prague with me in January?”

“Well, obviously.”

Ben ran out to pick up a newspaper while I made breakfast.  He came back with the Times and a huge armful of pink and yellow gladioli.

“They’re beautiful!”

“Glad you like them,” he said, grinning at his own pun, “I’ll find a vase.”

I trimmed the flowers and Ben arranged them in a large cut crystal vase.  He added water and put them on the table.  I dished up the frittata I’d made and carried the plates over.  The flowers were so enormous that we couldn’t see each other past them.

“Did you buy every one they had?” I asked, leaning around to see him.

“Yes.  I’ll just move them, shall I?”

He pushed them to the side and we ate and read the newspaper.  I was on my third cup of coffee and starting to get fidgety from the caffeine.

“Do you feel like going for a run?” I asked.

“It’s bucketing down rain.”

I shrugged, “I work outside; I’m not deterred by the weather.  You don’t have to come.  Stay here and finish the paper, I won’t be long.”

“You don’t mind if I don’t come along?”

 “I want to go run in the rain and you don’t.  What’s to mind?”

“I just thought, since I’m only here for a couple of days…”

“I’ll be less than an hour.  I’ve had too much coffee, I need to move.”

“Off you go then.”

I changed my clothes, kissed him goodbye and headed out.  He hadn’t exaggerated, it was pouring.  I ran through the streets and up onto the Heath.  Normally, I wouldn’t bother sticking to the pavement, but the grass was slippery with the rain, so I pounded out a circuit along the path and back through his neighbourhood.  I was at the front steps, stretching when I looked up and noticed that there were no lights on in his flat.  I ran up the stairs and unlocked the door.  It was dark and quiet inside.

“Ben?” I called.

“Upstairs,” he called back.

I took off my wet shoes and socks and went up.  I opened the bedroom door and went in.  The lights were off, but the bathroom door was ajar and I could see dim light from inside.  I pushed the door open.  The room was lit with candles and Ben was reclining in the big oval tub, bubbles all the way up to his beard, with a book in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other.

“You look, um…” He looked ridiculous and I started to giggle.

“This is how I prefer to spend a gloomy Sunday.”  He said, with great dignity.  “You’re welcome to join me, if you’ve finished gadding about in the rain.”

I peeled off my sodden running clothes and climbed into the bath, settling between his legs with my back to his chest.

“How was your run?”

“Wet, as you predicted.  What are you reading?”

“History of the Czech Republic.  Research.”  He tossed the book onto the floor. “Whiskey?”

He held his glass to my mouth and I took a sip.  He put the glass on the edge of the tub and pulled the elastic band from my hair, untwisting my wet braid. 

“Pass me that jug.”  He pointed to a metal decanter at the side of the tub.  It made me smile that like the candles in the bedroom, he’d planned ahead.  I reached for it and put it in his hand.  He dipped it into the water and poured it over my head a couple of times then added shampoo, washing my hair until it practically squeaked.   He rinsed the suds out and I passed him the bottle of conditioner.  He massaged it into my scalp.

“That’s lovely.” I sighed.

He left the conditioner in my hair and reached for the soap, holding the bar to my nose.

“Is this alright?  Not too perfumey?”

It smelled of lemon verbena.

“Perfect.”

He lathered the soap in his hands and scrubbed me clean from top to, literally, bottom.

“Where’s the hairbrush?” he asked.

“Here,” I passed it to him.

He brushed the conditioner through my hair, working out the tangles then rinsed, pouring jug after jug of water over my head.

I picked up the whiskey glass and turned around, leaning against the other end of the tub.  I slid down until my chin was touching the water and settled my feet on his flat belly.  He took them in his hands, stroking the arches with his thumbs.

“Oh, that’s very nice.” I said, setting the glass on the edge of the tub. 

He massaged my feet, moved his hands along my calves and back down.  I relaxed, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of his strong fingers manipulating my muscles.  He pushed my knees apart with his hands.

I cracked one eye open, “What do you think you’re doing, exactly?”

“This,” he said with a cheeky grin, sitting forward and sliding his hands up the insides of my thighs.

“Hmm, interesting.  Carry on.” I said, closing my eyes again and letting my head fall back against the edge of the tub.

 He moved closer, his legs sliding around my hips as he lifted my legs over his.  I heard him lather his hands with the bar of soap.  He reached for my breasts, his soapy hands gliding over my skin, my nipples hardening under his fingers.  His hands stroked along my ribcage, over my stomach, coming to rest just above my cleft.  He pressed down, alternating the pressure with his thumbs.

“Is this working for you at all?” he asked.

“Dunno yet.  You should probably keep going, just to be sure.”

“Right.”

He kept stroking against my clitoris with one thumb as his other hand moved lower, his index finger gliding between my labia, pushing slowly inside me.  His finger slid in and out, his thumb pressing harder in circles.  I could feel his hard-on bumping against my thighs as he moved.

“Can I assume from the way you’re breathing that you’re not enjoying this?” he asked.

“It’s awful.  I can’t imagine what you think you’re doing down there.”

“I’ll just stop then, shall I?”

“Don’t be a quitter.  Try something else; see if you can get the hang of it.”

“Alright, but don’t blame me if it only gets worse.  Clearly I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Clearly.”  I agreed, fighting a smile.

He pushed his cock down with his hand, eased himself inside me.

“Well, now this has potential.”  I said, lifting my head to look at him.

His eyes were dark in the candlelight as, with a positively filthy grin on his face, he reached around my waist and pulled me up so I was sitting on him.

“Maybe you should try leading by example,” he suggested.

“If you want a thing done properly...”  I said with a sigh of mock exasperation. 

“Put your hands here,” I continued, placing them on my ass, “and do try and keep up.”

I could feel him laughing against my mouth as I kissed him, my thumbs stroking the angles of his face.  Arching my back, I pressed my breasts into his chest and pushed myself down onto him, squeezing tight around his hardness.  I braced my knees around his slim hips and rose, sliding up his length, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck, pulling his lips tight to mine, snaking my tongue into his mouth, across his teeth.  He pulled back, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue darting, caressing.  I moved faster, the water churning around us as I rode him.

His beard tickled my face as I kissed across his cheek, ducked my head to suck at his neck, excited as I always was by the feeling of the cords of muscle under my lips.  His breath caught in his throat and his hands gripped my buttocks, pulling me to him, trying to get deeper inside me.  I pushed him back and he moved his hands behind himself, the veins standing out on his arms as he supported his weight.  I ground myself against him, swirling my hips in circles as I watched his face.  I leaned back, reaching around and cupping his balls in my hand.

“Oh Christ,” he groaned. 

He pushed himself into me, his ass coming up off the bottom of the tub.  My other hand reached down to where our bodies met and I stroked my clit, his eyes glued to the motion of my hand.  I felt his sac tighten in my fingers and suddenly his breath hitched and he bucked against me two, three times and sat up, his arms tight around my waist as he buried his face in my breasts, crying out as he came. 

I held still, stroking his hair as he shuddered against me.  He tilted his head back, inviting a kiss; slow, gentle, teasing.

He said, “Lie back.”

I was resting between his knees as I put my arms over the edge of the tub.  He angled his legs, slid his arm under me, lifting my hips out of the water and bent to press his mouth to me.  His lips found my clit, his tongue scraping across it.  He took his time, his tongue moving from my clitoris to my opening and back, lapping at me, drawing me into his mouth as his beard prickled my skin.   His finger scribed a figure eight again and again over my clit as he pointed his tongue, dipping it into me, tasting our combined wetness.  I sighed as his lips went back to my hard bud and he entered me with his fingers, stroking hard into me as his tongue flicked back and forth.

“Ben…” I gasped, gripping the tub and pushing myself against his face.  He sucked hard, his fingers twisting inside me, and I came, clenching around his hand. 

I opened my eyes, still breathing hard.  He lowered me into the water and lay back, smiling.

I burst out laughing at the look on his face, “Proud of yourself?”

“Yes.  Maybe next time I’ll try not using my hands.  As a sort of challenge.”

“A challenge?”

 “Well, I mean, it’s just so easy, isn’t it?”

I cocked an eyebrow at him, grinning.  “Excuse me?”

He smirked, his eyes sparkling, “Bringing you to orgasm.  Making you come.  Causing you to climax.  Too easy.”

“Is it?”

“Oh yes, compared to anyone else.”

“Anyone else.” I repeated quietly. 

“All the other women that I’ve slept with.  It’s easier with you than…” He hesitated, noticing the look on my face.

“I’m dying to know how you’re planning on finishing that thought.  Perhaps you’d like to explain to me how much harder you had to work with all the women who came before me, pun very much intended.  Please, do go on.”

“Shit, it wasn’t meant to sound like that.”

“Oh, but it did.  I’m easier to get off than _all the other women_ you’ve slept with.  That’s what you said.”

Absolutely furious, I got out of the tub, snatched a towel from the bar and stalked out of the bathroom.  I dried off, twisted my hair up in the towel and got dressed.  I was buttoning my jeans as Ben came out of the loo, a towel around his waist.

“Where are you going?”

“Downstairs.”  I brushed past him and went down to the sitting room. 

He ran down the stairs, pulling his shirt on.  He looked surprised to see me there lighting a cigarette.

“Could I have one of those?” he asked.

I threw the pack and lighter on the coffee table, “Knock yourself out.”

He took one and lit it, looking at me sideways through the smoke.

“I thought you might leave.”

“Because I’m pissed at you?” I asked, pulling the towel from my head.

“Yes.”

“What did you think?  That I was going to run out into the rain, crying my head off so you could come after me like Mr. Darcy?  Not fucking likely.  I wouldn’t let you pull that crap in New Orleans; I’m certainly not going to try it myself.”

“Kai, what I said - I didn’t intend for it to be a comparison.  I was trying to say something about how compatible we are, sexually.  And I was trying to be funny.  I misspoke.  I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

“I’m not angry that you were trying to be funny.  You were, right up ‘til you weren’t.  I’m not even angry that you seem to find it so effortless to make me come; that would be stupid.  I’m angry because you made me think about the things you’ve done to the women you’ve had before me.  For fuck’s sake Ben, I don’t want to be wondering every time you touch me whether you’ve touched someone else the same way.”

I sat down on the sofa, staring out at the rain streaking down the glass doors.  Ben came and sat next to me.  I could feel him looking at me.

“I’m not naïve.” I said.  “I’m very much aware that you had girlfriends before me, and I know that women practically throw themselves in your path.  But when you said ‘all the other women I’ve slept with’, it made me feel like just one of a very large crowd.”

“That wasn’t what I meant at all,” he said softly.  “The reality is that opportunities have presented themselves and I admit I took advantage.  I have had sex with a lot of women.  But since I met you there’s been no one else; I don’t want anyone else.   And it’s not just sex with you.  I’d only been in love once in my life until you.  The only comparison between you and anybody else is that you are unlike anyone I’ve ever known.  You’re special to me, Kai.”

I had been watching his eyes as he spoke, the cold anger in my belly easing.  He was so obviously distressed that he’d upset me and rationally, I knew it wasn’t intentional.

 “I believe you.” 

“Thank god,” he said, relieved.

“You’re very good at apologizing.  Do you often say such stupid things?”

“No, not often, but I do occasionally blurt things out without thinking.  You of all people must understand what that’s like.”

I shot him a look from the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t help smiling.

“Look Ben, people from one’s past do come up in conversation; I don’t care about that, that’s normal.   But I really don’t want to feel as though I’m being compared with anyone.   Even a realist can have an ego.”

“Everyone does.  I’m vaguely aware that you weren’t a virgin when I met you, but I don’t need to hear any details.”

I faced him, placing one hand on my heart and raising the other and said, “I do solemnly swear that I will never compare you to any previous boyfriend-slash-lover.”

“Never?”

“Never out loud.  I’m not an idiot.”

“Yes, alright, thank you very much.  You should probably kiss me now so I know you’re not angry with me anymore.”

“Actors,” I said, shaking my head, “always needing approval.”

“And applause.  A little applause wouldn’t go amiss.”

I climbed on to his lap, placed my hands on his cheeks and kissed him on the forehead, the tip of his nose and then on the mouth, lingering on his soft lips.

“You want applause, Cumberbatch?  You’re wise and you’re hilarious and the sound of your voice makes me shiver.  You’re brilliantly talented.  You’re sweet and kind and generous and I adore you.  The day I met you was the best day of my life.”

“Penis?” he prompted.

“Definitely the largest.  Not that I’ve anything to compare it to.  Happy now?”

“Yes.  And you?  Are we O.K?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes.  Except…”

“What?” he asked, “What can I do?”

“You could make lunch.  I’m starving.”

“Well then, get off me woman.”

I hopped up and he went to the kitchen, buttoning his shirt.  The rain had let up, so I went out to the balcony.  Almost everything had transplanted well; I deadheaded the flowers and rearranged a few of the pots.  I leaned on the railing, looking over London, the streets wet from the rain.  It smelled clean.  Ben came out, bringing me a glass of wine and leaned on the rail next to me.

“I found some of Mum’s Mulligatawny soup in the freezer.  Lunch will be ready in a few minutes.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” indicating the city with a nod of his head.

“Yes it is and your street is so quiet you hardly notice you’re surrounded by millions of people.”

“Surrounded?  That's an ominous word.”

“Don’t get me wrong, there are lots of things I love about London.  The museums, the theatres, the restaurants.  The history of the place.  But it’s just so huge, so civilised.  Like I told you before, back home I could jump in the car and be out in the middle of nowhere in half an hour.  I miss that.”

“So you don’t see yourself staying in London?” he asked, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Not forever.”

“Are you talking about going back to Canada?”

“No.  I don’t want to leave the U.K.  I’m just talking about not living right in the city, at least not full time.  You love it though, don’t you?”

“Yes.  It’s my favourite place in the world.  I’ve never even considered living anywhere else.”

“Oh dear.  Speaking of ominous.”

He smiled.  A small, tight smile.  “Hold that thought, I have to check the soup.”

As he ran inside, I thought about recently we’d met, about how well we really knew each other.  There was no denying we had amazing chemistry, and not just physically but intellectually.  We had long discussions about life and philosophy and politics, we made each other laugh, and I felt as though I could tell him anything; I trusted him.  The reality was though that we’d spent very little actual time together.  Coming on the heels of the argument we’d just had, it left me feeling pretty unsettled.

“Lunch is ready,” he called from the kitchen.

I went in and sat at the table.  He’d cut some bread and his Mum’s soup was fantastic, but after the conversation we’d begun, I wasn’t really hungry anymore.  I noticed that he wasn’t eating with much enthusiasm either. 

“Kai,” he said, putting his spoon down, “we obviously have to have a talk at some point about our future, but I’m leaving tomorrow and I don’t want to start this and then leave it all hanging in the air and I certainly don’t want every phone conversation for the next two weeks to be stilted or awkward because we’re scared of what we might say.  When I get home, we’ll have months together to figure things out.  Can we please just put this on hold until then?”

“That’s a very rational argument Ben.”

“I know.  It sounded like you, speaking with my voice.”

I giggled, the tension broken.

“I’m happy to call a moratorium on the discussion of our future until you get back.  So, what would you like to do for the rest of your visit?”

“Quiet afternoon in?  Watch a movie?  Then maybe we could have sex for the next twenty four hours or so.”

“Who do you think you are?  Sting?  Besides, since apparently you can make me orgasm just by looking at me, what will we do for the remaining twenty three hours and fifty nine minutes?”

“God you’re awful.”

“I know.  I can’t imagine why you love me.”

“Eat your soup.  And it’s your turn to do the washing up.”

After I’d cleaned up the kitchen, we watched _The Princess Bride._ Ben thought it hilarious that I knew it so well that I could recite large parts of the dialogue along with the characters.  When it was over, we fell asleep on the sofa; it was getting dark when I woke.  I got up without waking him and went to brush my teeth.  I hadn’t talked to Jeremy in days, so I went back downstairs and found my phone.  I was in the kitchen, chatting with Jem when I heard Ben get off the couch and go upstairs.

“Jem, does your friend Leon still work in that barber shop?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, why?”

“Could you give me his number?  I have a favour to ask him.”

“Why do you need a barber?”

“I want to learn how to use a straight razor.”

“Erm…O.K.  May I ask why?”

I explained about Ben’s horrible beard.

“I’d really like to be the one to shave it off.” I said.

Laughing, Jem promised to text me Leon’s phone number.  I leaned over, elbows on the counter as Jem caught me up on what was going on with our friends and at his café.  Ben came into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water and stood, watching me through narrowed eyes while he drank it.  He put his glass in the sink and walked around behind me.  Opening the cupboard above my head, he rummaged around the shelf then placed a bottle of olive oil in front of my face and unscrewed the cap.  He grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me upright.  Reaching around, he popped the button of my jeans and jammed his hand down the front of my pants.

Jem stopped talking mid-sentence, “What was that?”

“What?”

“You made a noise.”

“I stubbed my toe.”

Chuckling quietly, Ben worked his hand down into my jeans, rubbing me slowly.  I covered my mobile with my hand.

“I’m on the phone.” I said.

“I can see that.”

“Sorry Jem, what did you say?”

He repeated what he’d said about interviewing a new waitress.  While Jem was talking, Ben pulled his hand out of my jeans, grabbing the waistband and jerking them down my legs.  I covered the phone again.

“Can you wait for five minutes?” I whispered.

“Keep talking.”

“Be serious.”

“I dare you.”

I uncovered the phone and asked Jem a question about the new server.  Ben unbuttoned his shirt then squatted, lifting each of my feet in turn and pulling my jeans free.  I heard him undo his zipper.  As I continued trying to talk with Jeremy, Ben reached for the olive oil.  I looked back at him, watching as he poured the oil into his palm, rubbed his hands together and began smearing it all over his penis.  As he stroked himself with one hand, the other came to rest on my lower back, pushing me forward again to rest on the countertop.  He picked up the bottle and I felt a stream of oil on my skin, then his hand smoothing it over my bare ass and thighs.  As he grew harder, he stepped between my legs and started rubbing his cock on my oiled skin.  I closed my eyes, trying to focus on what Jem was saying.  It didn’t help.

Ben stuck his hand between my legs and rumbled, “Christ, you’re so wet.”

“Was that Ben?” Jeremy asked.  “Say ‘hi’ for me.”

Grinning, I looked back at Ben, “Jem says ‘hi’.”

“Hi Jeremy!” he called as he spread my labia apart with his fingers.

He was rubbing his dick in the slickness between my legs.  I started to say something to Jem and Ben sank his full length into me.  I gasped and dropped the phone. 

I scrambled to pick it up, saying, “Just a sec Jem, sorry.”

Ben’s hands were on my hips; he pulled back all the way and thrust into me.  I bent lower, resting my chest on the counter.

“Why did you hire her then?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

I was struggling to follow what Jem was saying as Ben continued to screw me with long strokes.  His hands, slick with olive oil were digging into my skin, locked on my hip bones, dragging me onto him.  I couldn’t believe how much it turned me on when he was rough like this, demanding.  He buried himself deep inside me, stopped.

“Jeremy, why do you keep doing this to yourself?  Stop hiring staff because you think they’re cute.  It never ends well.”

Ben had picked up the bottle and once again held it over me, trickling oil into the crack of my ass.  He set the bottle down and ran his finger down the cleft between my cheeks.  He started to move, pumping his stiff length in and out of my pussy as he carefully slipped an oil slicked finger into my ass.  I rose up on my toes, pushed myself back onto him and he groaned.  Loudly.

“Jemmy, I’ll call you right back, Ben needs something.” 

I hung up as Ben started laughing, “You can say that again.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“It’s your own bloody fault, bending over the counter with your lovely bum in the air like that.”

“Would you either say something sexy or shut up and get back to what you were doing.  Please?”

“As you wish.” He said.

He pushed my legs tight together, lazily stroking in and out of me, the friction making me crazy.  He worked a second finger into my ass and I sucked air between my teeth, tears pricking my eyelids.

“Ben, please,” I begged.

“Please what?”

“Harder.  Fuck me.”

The tempo of his hips sped up, his fingers matching the movement and I moaned deep in my throat.  The dual sensations, the sweet satisfaction of having him inside me and the sharp ache of his fingers pressing into my tight ass made my knees weak.  I was shaking, panting, throwing myself back hard against him.  Without breaking his rhythm he leaned over my back, his teeth nipping at my skin.  He scissored his fingers open, stretching me, biting at the thin skin over my ribs and I cried out.  I saw an explosion of stars behind my eyes, my nerve endings on fire as with a helpless wail, I came.  Ben buried himself completely inside me as he convulsed with his own orgasm, his arm around my waist holding me up as my knees gave out.

He stood, pulling me up with him, his lips soft on my neck as he panted, “Good god, that sound you made – pushed me right over the edge.”

I tilted my head, “Kiss me.”

He did, his lips moving softly over mine.

“Whatever you want.  I’m quite powerless to resist you.”

“Are you?” I asked quietly, snaking my arms around behind his neck.  “I like the sound of that.  It makes me wonder you might let me do to you.”

“Did you have something specific in mind?  I’m not sure whether to be titillated or terrified.” His hand was stroking my belly.

“Are you going to have the beard for the rest of the film?”

“Yes, but I’ll shave it off before I come home, O.K?”

“No, leave it.  I want to do it.”

“You want to shave me?”

“Yes.  With a straight razor.”

“A straight razor?  You know how to do that?”

“Not yet, but I’ll learn.”

“Why?”

I laughed.

“Stropping the razor, lathering your face; I find the whole idea as sexy as hell.  I have no idea why.”

“And you’re going to learn by practicing on other men while I’m halfway around the world.  What a fantastic idea.”  He said sourly.

“I’m sure I’ll be too busy being shit scared to be turned on.  What do you say?  Will you let me shave you?”

“If it will make you happy, of course I will.”

“I think it’ll make you happy too.  I have a plan.”

He sighed and let go of me and retrieving my jeans from the floor, I ran upstairs to wash.

When I came back down, he’d turned the lights on and was sitting on the sofa reading a book, music playing quietly in the background.  I went into the kitchen to start dinner and finish my call with Jem.  I tucked the phone in the crook of my neck and waited for him to pick up while I juiced a couple of limes for the fish.

“You were having sex, weren’t you?” asked Jem with disgust.

I laughed, “Not initially, but yes.  Sorry Jemmy.”

“Christ.  Stubbed your toe indeed.”

“Oh please, at least I had the grace to hang up.  How many times have I had to listen to you and your latest carrying on through the walls of your bedroom?”

“Fair point.” He chuckled.

“Finish your story; I’m paying attention this time.”

“There’s nothing else to it really.  You were right; I can’t hire her because I want to sleep with her.  It’s immoral.”

“I think it’s illegal.” I said, measuring rice into a pot and adding coconut milk, a couple of kaffir lime leaves and a stalk of lemongrass that I’d crushed with the butt of my knife.

“Yes, there is that.  Anyway, the other thing I wanted to let you know is that Chloe’s baby shower is this weekend.  Should we split a gift?”

“You mean should I go pick out a present and wrap it then let you take half the credit?”

“Yes.”

“Why not?  Is she registered somewhere?”

“Yeah, some ridiculously high-end shop where we probably can’t afford anything but a pair of tiny socks.  I’ll text you the details.”

“Good.  I’ll take care of it.  I’m taking Ben to the airport tomorrow night, and then I’ll be home, O.K?”

“See you then, Maple Leaf.”

I put my phone down started the sauce for the fish.  I chopped a pepper and some onions and mixed Thai chile sauce with fish sauce and the lime juice in a small pan and put it aside for later.  I turned the rice down to a slow simmer.

Ben looked up as I walked into the sitting room.

“Where do you keep the clean sheets?”

“I’ll show you.” He said, dropping his book on the table.

“That’s alright, keep reading.  Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

“The linen cupboard is the one beside the spare bedroom.”

I went down the hallway and opened the cupboard door, choosing a set of gorgeous silver grey Egyptian cotton sheets and a dark blue duvet cover.  I carried them upstairs and stripped the bed.  Changing the sheets was no trouble, but the bed was a king size and the duvet was enormous.  I tried turning the cover inside out, holding the corners of the duvet and shaking the cover over it like a giant pillow case, but even standing on the bed, I was too short to make it work.  In the end, I just crawled right inside the cover and pulled the duvet in that way.  I backed out of the cover, my hair standing on end from static electricity and turned to find Ben standing in the doorway, looking extremely amused.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m not tall enough to do it any other way.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me?  I said I’d help.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.  I figured it out, didn’t I?”

“God you’re stubborn.” He said, grinning.

“I’m just used to doing things for myself.  It doesn’t even occur to me to ask for help.”

“I know you’re perfectly capable of doing things for yourself and I admire your self-sufficiency, but I like to do things for you, or rather, with you.  I’m away from home so much that I really appreciate doing domestic things together.    It makes me feel like we’re a couple.”

“You’re the loveliest man, do you know that?”

He smiled, the small lines around his eyes creasing in the way I loved so much. 

He walked over to the bed.  “Grab the other side, let’s finish this together.” 

We straightened the duvet and put the clean cases on the pillows, piling them at the headboard.  I walked around the bed and put my arms around his waist.  His lips met mine and we both jumped as a piercing shriek split the air.

“Smoke alarm!” he shouted.

I bolted for the kitchen and grabbed the smoking rice pot off the burner with my bare hand.  I turned to drop it in the sink and for a moment, my hand was stuck to the hot handle.  I twisted the tap on to run water over the saucepan.  Steam and smoke poured into the air as Ben ran to open the doors to the terrace.  My hand felt like it was on fire.  I stuck it under the cold water as Ben pulled a chair over and climbed up to turn the alarm off.  He came into the kitchen and turned the exhaust fan on.

“Did you burn yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Badly?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t looked.”

There was a knock at the door and he went to answer it.  It was a neighbour, checking to make sure everything was alright.  Ben explained about the rice and shutting the door, came back to the sink.  I had my hand curled in a loose fist, the water running between my fingers.

“Let me see.”

I closed my eyes and opened my hand.  I could feel the skin pulling across my palm as I uncurled my fingers.

“Kai, it doesn’t look very good.  I think we’re going to have to have this looked at.”

“No, really?” 

“Yes, really.”

Opening my eyes and seeing the look on his face was not comforting.  I looked at my hand.  The skin looked tight and shiny except where it was bleeding from where it had stuck to the handle and torn as I pulled away.

“Ew.” I said.

“Rather.  I’ll get your coat; I’m taking you to A&E.”

“No, hold on a minute.  I don’t think the burn is actually that serious, it just looks bad because it’s bleeding.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me?”

I smiled.  “You’re not the one that needs reassuring, you prat.  Do you have any gauze?” 

“I have a first aid kit somewhere, but I really think we should go to hospital.”

“I don’t want to, and I really don’t think it’s that bad.  I’m going to keep running the water over it.  Can you find the first aid kit please?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He stood there, glaring at me.  Finally, he shook his head and went to look for the kit.

I could hear him muttering under his breath, “Fucking stubborn…” as he walked away.

He was back almost immediately with a small metal box.

“I found this too,” he said, showing me a tube of Savlon.

“That’s perfect.  Is there gauze?”

He opened it, flicking through the contents. 

“There are sterile pads and a roll of it as well.”

“Good.  Can you pass me a clean towel?  Nothing fluffy, I don’t want anything that will stick to it.”

He brought me a clean dish towel and I carefully dried my hand, wincing as I pressed against the raw skin on my palm.

“I think you’ll have to do this next part.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Can you put a dressing on this for me?”

“I don’t have the first clue what to do.”

“I do,” I said with a smile, “my Mum’s a nurse, remember?  Bring everything over to the table, and then wash your hands, O.K?”

I sat, my arm on the table, my palm facing up.  Ben dried his hands and then joined me.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Spread a little of the Savlon on first, cover the open areas with the pads, then wrap the whole thing with the roll of gauze.”

I watched his face as he followed my instructions.  He was concentrating so hard he probably wouldn’t have noticed if a brass band had marched through the dining room.  He very gently spread the antiseptic cream across my hand then covered it as I’d told him. 

“Breathe.” I said.

He glanced at me and smiled.  He wound the gauze roll around my hand, checking to make sure it wasn’t too tight, then tore a couple of pieces of tape from a roll he’d found in the first aid kit and secured the ends.

He looked up at me, concern in his eyes, but also a glimmer of triumph.

“How’s that?”

I carefully flexed my hand, checking to make sure the dressing was secure.

“It’s perfect.  Nicely done, nurse.  Do you have any ibuprofen?”

He brought me a couple of tablets and a glass of water.

“Well,” I said, “talk about manifesting your desires.”

“What do you mean?”

“You wanted me to let you help me do things?  I can’t even wash my own face properly.  And you’ll have to make dinner and do the washing up.”

He bent and kissed the top of my head.

“This was certainly not what I had in mind, but I’m happy to take care of you.  What were you making, before you set my kitchen on fire?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. All That's Best of Dark and Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Kai, playing with some boundaries...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pushing into some new territory here, but I think that at the core, I'm staying true to what I originally started to write - it's still a love story...
> 
> In editing this chapter, I've realized that there's not a ton of plot, but there is a whole lot of sex, so that's something.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 9 – All That’s Best of Dark and Bright

Ben poured me a glass of wine and I talked him through the rest of the steps to cook the fish and finish the sauce.  He’d found a packet of glass noodles in the cupboard and we had those instead of the rice, since it was burnt to a crisp.  After we ate I poured myself another glass of wine and followed him into the kitchen.  He lifted me up to sit on the counter and I watched as he cleaned up.

“You know what?”  I asked.

He looked at me, one eyebrow cocked inquisitively.

“You were right about this domestic thing.  Watching you cook for me and serve me dinner does make me feel more like a couple.  And there’s something about you with your sleeves rolled up and your hands in the dishwater that’s incredibly sexy.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” I giggled, “you’re just so damned good looking.  It makes the most mundane things arousing.”

“Like scrubbing rice off a burned pot?”

“Yes.  And the way you hold the steering wheel and shift gears when you’re driving; the way you wrap your hand around your coffee cup.  And the way you frown when you’re really absorbed in something you’re reading.”

“I see.”  He said, looking pleased but a bit embarrassed.

“And then there’s every time you open your mouth.  You could turn me on reading the directions on the washing up liquid.”

He stared at me and picked up the bottle, turning it over.

“Scrape food debris from dishes.  Fill sink with warm water.” He read.

I smiled.

“Add detergent to water.” 

“Don’t stop.” I said.

“Using a sponge or cloth…” he glanced at me.

“Take me now.” I said.

He started laughing and I shrieked as he grabbed me around the waist and threw me over his shoulder.  He carried me to the sofa and dropped me onto the cushions, landing on top of me.

“You’re ridiculous.”  He said, his eyes sparkling with laughter.

“I know.  And you love me, so what does that say about you?”

“It says I know a good thing when I see it.  It says I was right to have brought you home and shagged you silly the minute we met.  It says I’m very, very lucky.”

We lay on the sofa, snogging like teenagers.  He had worked his hand up my shirt and was squeezing my nipple through my bra, grinding against me.  I moved my bandaged right hand over my head and pressed my left hand into the small of his back, pulling him close.  He buried his face in my neck, his tongue swirling over my skin, his hand caressing my hair.  He moved lower, small kisses feathering across my collar bone and bit the top of my breast.  I pushed my hand into his hair, softly pulling him back.

“No, Ben, not tonight.  I need you to be gentle tonight.”

He looked up, smiled.  “Whatever you want, my lovely.”

He got up, slid one arm behind my back and the other under my knees, lifted me and carried me up the stairs.  He sat on the bed, holding me on his lap and reached to flick the bedside lamp on.

“Not that I mind in the least but what’s brought this on?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.  Maybe because you’re leaving tomorrow?  This is the most time we’ve spent together at home since we met.  Maybe it’s because of what you said about doing things together and feeling like a couple, or because you were so sweet and careful when you bandaged my hand.  Or maybe it really was watching you do the dishes.”

He grinned. 

“We’ve been all over each other since you got back and we’ve been exploring some new territory and I’m not complaining; it’s been exciting as hell.   I’m still trying to figure out why I respond the way I do when you’re aggressive, domineering; why suddenly now, with you, a degree of pain thrills me.  The reason I’ve felt safe pushing those boundaries is because I love you and I trust you.  But tonight, I just want to feel loved; I need the gentle you.” I said.

He stroked my back as he answered, “I don’t need the aggressive stuff every time and I’ll give you whatever you need, you know that.  But I think I need to make it clear to you that it’s because I love you that I feel safe to go as far as I do, to explore that side of myself and of you.   I couldn’t love you any more than when I know what I’m doing is causing you pain and you’re not only giving me permission, but urging me to keep going.  When you react to me the way you do in those moments, it’s not just physical for me, it’s emotional.  For trust to exist, it has to be mutual.”

I brought my hand up to caress his cheek, “I don’t even know what to say to that.  You’ve quite taken my breath away.”

He kissed me, his lips soft and gentle.  He pulled me tight against his body and slid his hand under my shirt, his fingertips gliding over my skin.  He kissed me forever, exploring my mouth with his tongue, smiling against my lips when I sighed with pleasure.  He stood, pulling me up with him and untucked the sheets.

“I want to see you naked.”  He said, popping the button on my jeans.

He slipped my jeans down and he bent, kissing along my thighs, up my belly.  I was actually starting to like the feeling of his beard on my skin.  He pushed my shirt up and over my head, carefully slipping it over my bandaged hand.  He undid the clasp at the front of my bra, smiling down at me as he cupped my breasts, ran his thumbs over my nipples.  I shrugged my bra off and reached for the buttons on his shirt, awkwardly undoing them with my left hand.  He pulled his shirt off; his hands skimmed down my hips and into my underwear, pulling them off.  I watched him as his scanned my body, saw the skin where his neck met his collarbone flush red.   He picked me up, put me on the bed and lay on top of me, his lips sliding down my neck to my breasts.  He pushed them together with his hands, moved his mouth from one to the other, sucking the nipples into hard, wet points, rubbing them along his lips.  I sank my hand into his soft hair, pulling him against me, arching my back to get closer to him.  He sat up, his eyes sweeping down my body as he rested a hand on my pubic hair, one finger slipping down between my labia.  I sucked in a breath, my hips rising to meet his hand as he made contact with my clitoris.  He stroked me, his finger slippery in my moisture, watching my response.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful; I could watch you like this all night.”

I reached for his hand, brought it to my mouth and wrapped my lips around his finger, tasting myself on him.  I sucked his finger, stroking with my tongue then moved his hand back to my groin, my hand on top of his, my fingers pressing his into me.  I pushed his hand lower, my own fingers on my clitoris.  He pushed two fingers against my opening, sliding in easily and he curled them forward, pressing against that sensitive spot that he knew.  My hips rose as I swept my fingers over my clit, Ben’s fingers curling and dipping hard into me, and I felt heat coiling deep in my groin, my heels pressing into the bed and I groaned, grasping his wrist and pushing him deep inside me, shuddering as I came.

He kept his fingers in me, moving with aching slowness.  He leaned over me, kissing a line from my breasts, down my belly and pressed his mouth over my vagina.  I was still too sensitive and I tried to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around my waist, holding me to him.  He opened his mouth, sucking at me, pulling me in, his tongue moving against his fingers.  I cried out, just his name over and over, helpless with pleasure.  I felt him take his penis in his hand, felt him stroking himself.

“Let me.” I said, rolling onto my side and reaching for him.

I grasped him down low, squeezing my hand around him and pulled hard, dragging my fingers up his length.  I rubbed my palm over the head, made a circle with my fingers and twisted.  He slid his arm behind my head, bringing me in for a kiss; his tongue tracing the shape of my lips as my hand spiraled up and down, pushing him against my body.  I wriggled down the bed, stretched my lips around his girth.  I swirled my tongue over the smooth head of his cock, and hearing his moan, did it again, and again.  I held his length out from his body, sliding my mouth down to meet my fingers and sucked him deep into me.  His hips jumped and I sucked harder, moving down to take as much as I could.  I pulled back, tasting his salty sweetness with the tip of my tongue and felt his hands in my hair.  I let him guide me until he bumped the back of my throat and I stopped, breathing through my nose, inhaling the musky sex smell of him, then I sank lower. 

“Oh god, Kai, wait.”

I hummed a low pitched, negative sound to let him know I wasn’t going to stop, the vibration causing him to jerk against me.  I dragged my tongue up his length, stroked it against his frenulum, and curled it over the head.  My jaw was starting to ache, but hearing his breathing change, I slid my mouth down again, sucking hard as I pulled him in and worked him with my hand.  His fingers were flexing in my hair, his hips thrusting toward me and he made an animal noise, a growling whine as he came in my mouth.  I swallowed, licked him clean and rolled onto my back, panting.

He pulled me up next to him, rolled on top of me settling between my legs.  He took his still semi erect penis in his hand and I sighed as he worked himself inside me.  He kissed me, soft lips nuzzling at me, tongue sliding to meet mine, tasting himself in my mouth.  He moved slowly, pressing his pubic bone against mine.  I squeezed him tightly, flexing and releasing as he grew inside me.  He sucked at my neck, my hand curled in his hair.

“I love this; your weight on me, having you inside me.” I whispered in his ear.

He lifted his head.  “There’s no place I’d rather be.” He said with a sweet smile.

I smiled back, looking into his eyes, his pupils huge, dilated with desire and I knew mine must look the same.  He slid his hand down my side, lifted my leg to wrap around his waist.  I brought the other up, locked my ankles behind his back, raising my hips to him.  He stroked into me, long and slow, over and over and over again until I was groaning with pleasure.  He ducked his head, sucking my nipple into his mouth and his hips moved in circles, the change in friction making me push myself at him.  I lifted my knees, opening myself to him and he rose up, his hands behind my legs, lifting them higher.  I pulled one leg up, the back of my knee resting on his shoulder and I heard his sudden intake of breath.  He slipped a hand between our bodies, pressing his thumb onto my clitoris, rubbing hard, watching my face as he drove himself forward.  My hips came off the bed meeting him thrust for thrust, our groins smacking together.  I grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away and dragging him down on top of me.  My left hand was on his ass, my right arm around the back of his neck as I pulled him to me, desperate for release, needing to feel his weight pressing me into the mattress.  Our sweat-slick bodies slapped together and I heard myself moaning, urging him to come with me.  He slammed hard into me, his voice harsh as he called my name again and again and I was lost in the sound of his voice as he exploded inside me, my back arching as the waves of my orgasm crashed through me.  He stayed on top of me, kissing salt from my neck, whispering words of love in my ear and utterly content, I fell asleep.

I woke in darkness, my hand throbbing.  I sat up, alone in the bed.  I rolled over, turned the bedside lamp on and got up, taking Ben’s robe from the back of the door and went down the stairs.  He was on the sofa, his script in his hands and he looked up as I came in.

“It’s half past one.  What are you doing?” I asked sleepily.

“I’ve been neglecting my work since I got home.  I’m woefully behind on my preparation for this week.”

“I won’t bother you; I just came down for some Advil.”

“It’s on the counter in the kitchen.  I’ve made a pot of tea if you’d like some.”

I went to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of Earl Grey, adding a splash of milk.  I tried to open the bottle of ibuprofen, but it had a safety cap and I couldn’t get a grip on it.  I stuck the bottle under my arm, went back to the sitting room and set my tea on the table.

“I can’t open this.” I said, passing the bottle to him.

“Of course you can’t, it’s child proof.”  He said, grinning.

“Ha-bloody-ha.”

He shook two tablets into his hand and I leaned over, lipping them off his palm, letting him feel the tip of my tongue.

“Kai, I thought you weren’t going to bother me.”

“Sorry, force of habit.”  I said, taking a sip of tea and swallowing the pills. 

“Since you’re up, would you like to help me?”

“How?”

“Run lines with me?”

“I can do that.”

He flicked through the pages of the script, passed it to me.

“I’m Andrew.  Can you read Diane and Henry?”

“Who are they?”

“My sister and father.  These scenes are in Venezuela, but the family is from Louisiana.  You can do the accent or not, whichever you prefer.”

I settled back into the corner of the sofa, my feet tucked under me.  We ran through the scene a couple of times, me reading the two characters, prompting Ben when he faltered.

“Next page, keep going,” he said, “Just Diane and Andrew.” 

This scene was longer and we went over it again and again, Ben trying out different readings, inflections.  It was fascinating to watch him, to listen as he changed the meaning of some lines by putting the emphasis on a new word or phrase.  I looked up as we came to the end of the page.  He was smiling at me.

“That was quite good, and your accent was spot on.”

“Thank you.” I said.

“I mean it.  At the end there, you weren’t just reading the words; you were acting the scene with me.  I’m impressed.”

“This is me, acting like I’m not immensely flattered.”  I said.  “I haven’t even looked at a script in years.”

“Now I’m even more curious to hear you sing.  To plumb the depths of your hidden talents.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what you’ve been doing all weekend.”

He laughed.  “I’m serious, I really do want to hear you sing.  Jeremy said you’re very good.”

“You can come to an open mike night at Jem’s when you get home.”

“I look forward to it.” He said, reaching for a cigarette.

“Is that my ring?” I asked.

When I burned my hand, I’d taken my ring off in case my fingers swelled, and had left it on the kitchen counter.  Now the wide silver band was on Ben’s left little finger.

“I found it when I was making the tea.  I hope you don’t mind, but I was worried it would end up going down the sink or something.  Do you want it back?”

“No, that’s alright.  It doesn’t fit on my left hand.  Keep it for me until I can wear it again.” 

The truth was, I liked the idea of him wearing my ring while we were apart. 

“I’m going back to bed.  Are you staying up?”

“No, I’ll just turn the lights out and I’ll be right up.  It’s my last chance for two weeks to listen to you snore.”

The next morning, over coffee, Ben asked what I wanted to do for the day.

“There’s nothing too pressing.  My friend Chloe is having a baby and I have to find a gift for her shower next Saturday.  At the risk of opening an enormous can of worms by taking you anywhere near a store full of baby things, would you like to go shopping with me?”

“Do you think I can be trusted?”

“Well, you’re leaving tonight, so I won’t have to deal with you if you go all broody.”

He laughed and I was relieved that we were able to joke about a subject that previously had been a pretty touchy area. 

I put a plastic bag over my bandage and had a shower, then peeled the old dressing off and carefully washed and dried my hand.  It looked pretty good, with no sign of infection.  Ben put a fresh dressing on for me.  Putting on a bra with one hand is much harder than taking one off, so he helped me get dressed which took far longer than when I did it myself.

“Ben, you’ve just put those on me.” I said, looking down at the top of his head.

“Can’t help it,” he said.  He was kneeling on the floor in front of me and kissing my belly, his fingers hooked inside my underwear, pulling them down.

I grabbed my shirt off the bed and twisted away from him, shrugging the sleeves onto my arms.

“Buttons.”

He sighed and stood up.

“Fine.”

I watched his face as he bent to the task, looking down when he’d finished.  I started laughing.  The whole thing was buttoned wrong.

“Oh dear,” he said, “That’s not right at all, is it?  I’ll just have to undo this and start over.”

Which he did, stopping to kiss the skin under each button.  When my shirt was undone, he looked at me expectantly.

“No.  Just do it up.”

He buttoned it properly and got my skirt, kneeling again and holding it open.  I put my hand on top of his head for balance and stepped into my skirt.  He pulled it up over my hips and reached around me to pull up the zipper, his face pressed to my body, breath hot through the fabric.  I nearly gave in. 

I took a step back and he stood, carefully tucking my shirt into the waist of my skirt.

“My boots are downstairs.  I’ll just get my lip balm from my makeup bag and I’ll be right down.”

I met him by the front door and he helped me into my boots and jacket.  He locked the door of the flat behind us and we went down the steps.  As we stepped out the front door, I reached over and popped my hand in his pocket, then walked to the car.  He reached into his pocket and pulled his hand out, saw what was there and quickly put it back.  He unlocked the car and I got in.  He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“Your pants are in my pocket.” He said.

“Huh.  I wondered where those had gotten to.”

“Tell me where we’re going so we can hurry up and get home.”

I gave him directions to the store where Chloe had registered.  We found a parking spot and Ben pulled his hat down over his forehead and slipped on a pair of sunglasses before getting out of the car and coming to open my door.

“Do you think you’re actually fooling anyone?”

 “No one knows I’m in London, I’m supposed to be in South America.”

“Ben, you’re one of the most recognizable people in the world, do you really think a hat changes that?”

“It’s worth a try.”

He took my hand and we walked down the street and into the shop.  It even smelled expensive.  Chloe is married to an old school friend of Jeremy’s.  She’s a really lovely person, but she grew up with pots of money; so much money that it sometimes doesn’t even occur to her that other people don’t live that way. 

An impeccably dressed older woman behind the counter asked if we needed assistance.  I thanked her and explained that I had a list on my phone.  I pulled up Chloe’s registry from the website.  I groaned.  It looked as though Jem might have been right about a pair of expensive socks. 

“Do you know what she’s having?” Ben asked.

“A girl.” I said.

Ben walked away to browse as I scanned the list.  Everything in the price range I was comfortable with had already been bought.  I sighed and walked over to join him at the rack of clothes.

“For fuck’s sake,” I whispered, flipping over a price tag, “90 pounds for a onesie?  What’s it made of, fairy wings and unicorn farts?”

He burst out laughing, eliciting a look from the shop keeper. We wandered over to a display of blankets.  They were creamy pastel colours, beautiful to the touch and 220 pounds each.  And not on Chloe’s list.  We looked around the store, with me getting more and more frustrated.  It seemed ridiculous to me to spend so much money on something that would be used for a couple of months and then outgrown or forgotten.

“Honestly Ben, look at this list.  She’s got a sleigh style cot bed on here.  I’m not being mingy, but that crib is fancier than my bed.”

He took my phone from my hand and walked over to the display of beds, finding the one on Chloe’s registry.

“It’s very nice.”

“It’s 1600 pounds.  Have you any idea how much money I make?”

“It converts into a regular bed.  Or a little sofa.”

“It’s 1600 pounds.” I repeated, walking away.

I heard the bell over the door ring and looked up as I heard a voice call out, “Oh hello, it’s Kay isn’t it?”

I was being greeted by a vision in Burberry.  Her name was Tamsin and she was a friend of Chloe’s whom I’d met several times before.  I couldn’t decide if she got my name wrong every time intentionally or just because the only voice she seemed to hear was her own.  She was very pretty, with long shiny brown hair and bright green eyes, but the longer I’d known her the less I liked her. 

“No, it’s Kai actually.”  I corrected her yet again.  “Hello Tamsin.”

“Isn’t it exciting?  Chloe’s shower I mean.  Have you chosen a gift yet?  I suppose it’s difficult on a budget.” She said, looking me up and down.

She had the kind of annoying upper class accent that sounded like she had a flute stuck in her nose and as though she were bored to tears, regardless of what she was saying.

“It is exciting,” I agreed, “and no, I haven’t found anything yet.”

“I was looking at these adorable onesies online.  I thought I might get one in every colour.”

Her eyes were already dismissing me and I saw her clock Ben, still standing over by the beds.

“Oh my god, that’s Benedict Cumberbatch.  Isn’t he the most delicious thing?”

“Yes,” I agreed, glancing over my shoulder, “he is rather.”

“I’m going to go introduce myself.” She said, digging in her purse and coming up with a bottle of Chanel which she sprayed liberally over herself.

“Tamsin, do you think that’s the best idea?”  I asked.  “Maybe he doesn’t want to be bothered.”

“Oh trust me darling, he’ll be glad I did.  I’ve wanted to meet him for simply ages.  One must take the bull by the horns, don’t you think?”

I sneezed three times in quick succession from her perfume and by the time I looked up, she had sashayed across the shop to where Ben stood examining the gift registry on my phone.  I could hear her grating voice as she introduced herself, stepping close and completely invading his personal space.  As she talked, her hand came up and adjusted the lapel of his jacket.  Ben looked up and caught my eye, a look of desperation on his face.  I grinned at his discomfort.

“Kai,” he called to me, “Could you come here for a moment?”

I walked across the shop and as I reached his side, he took my hand.

“It was nice to meet you Tamsin,” he said.  “I don’t want to hurry you Kai, but we really do need to get going.”

Tamsin stared at us, her eyes like saucers.

“I haven’t made up my mind,” I said, “maybe I should come back later this week.”

“No, we’re here now.  Let’s just get the bed.”

“Excuse me,” he called to the lady behind the counter, “we’ll take this one.  Can we have it delivered Saturday?”

Before I could stop him, he had his credit card out and was making small talk with the sales woman as she rang up the sale.

“Well, who would have credited that?”  Tamsin said, “You’re quite the dark horse, aren’t you Kay?”

“Oh Tamarind, you have no idea.”  And grinning to myself, I went to join Ben at the counter.

After finalizing the delivery details, Ben and I left the shop and walked down the pavement, holding hands.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” he asked.

“The part where you were scared of the pretty lady or the part where I used our relationship to feel superior to the pretty lady?  Frankly, I’m appalled at my childishness, but she absolutely brings out the worst in me.”

He opened the door of the car and I got in.  He leaned in and kissed me.

“I don’t mind that you used me.  She was awful, Kay.” He grinned.

After he’d gotten into the car, I said, “Ben?  I’m going to pay you back for that bed.”

“No you’re bloody not.”  He pulled onto the street.

“You don’t even know Chloe.  I don’t feel right about you paying for my gift.”

“Kai, we agreed that we’d wait until I get back to talk about ‘us’, but I’m just going to say one thing.  If we’re going to be together, you’re going to have to come to terms with the idea that what’s mine is yours.”

“But…”

“No.  That’s it.  I won’t argue with you about this.  It’s not up for discussion.”  His voice was firm as he stared straight ahead through the windscreen.

“And you have the nerve to call me stubborn.”

“You are stubborn.  While we’re on the subject of money, there’s something else.”

“Yes?”

“There’s a premiere for my friend Tom’s new film here in London the weekend before your birthday.  Would you like to go?”

“Your friend Tom?”

“Tom Hiddleston.”

“You’ve no idea what that sounds like to us mortals, do you?

“Bugger off.  Will you come with me?”

“Yes, of course.”

“There will be more press than you can believe and as it’s the first time I’m taking you to an event like this, they’re going to go mental.  You’re going to need a dress.”

“I guess by ‘a dress’ you mean I can’t just pop down to Topshop.” 

“Exactly.  I’ll ask Louise to organize something when we get home.  She’ll get a bunch of dresses for you to try.  And you’re not to ask prices.  Do I make myself clear?”

“You know, I’m not sure I like it when you’re such a tyrant outside the bedroom.”

“Too bad.  Consider your options: you can let me buy you a dress or you can drive yourself crazy trying to find something appropriate on your budget.  It’s entirely up to you.”

“You can buy me a dress.”  I said, knowing he was right.

“Christ that was easier than I expected.” He said.

“I can admit when I’m beaten.”

He parked the car in front of his flat and we went upstairs.  He hung my jacket up and I kicked my boots off.  As I turned to go to the kitchen, he grabbed my arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I looked down to where his hand was gripping my arm, then back to his face.

“I-I thought I might make some tea.”

His long fingers wrapped around the back of my neck as he pulled me close.

“I’ve been walking around for two hours with your underwear in my pocket.  We have to leave for the airport at six o’clock and I’m not going to see you for two weeks.  Go upstairs and get your clothes off.”  His voice was hard and I felt a shiver of excitement in my belly.

I walked up the stairs to the bedroom, wondering yet again why I was so turned on by him when he was like this.  If anyone else had ever spoken to me the way he did I’d have boxed their ears. 

I managed to get undressed, my right hand not such a detriment in getting my clothes off and got into bed to wait for him, sitting up against a pile of pillows.  He came into the bedroom and walked to his closet without looking at me.  He shrugged his jacket off and hung it up and I watched him as he opened a drawer, pulling out several ties.  He came to the foot of the bed and pulled the covers off me, his eyes flinty as he scanned me up and down.  For the first time in ages, feeling vulnerable, I covered myself, crossing my arms across my stomach.  He smiled and I could see in his face that he knew he was making me nervous, and that he was enjoying it.

“Come here.” He said.

I moved down the bed until my feet were near the footboard.  He knotted two of his ties together and bent to tie the end around the foot of the bed, checking the length.  He did the same on the other side.  He climbed onto the bed to kneel behind me, trailing a finger down my spine.  He leaned in and I heard his deep voice in my ear.

“Close your eyes.”

I did and he blindfolded me with one of the ties.  He moved beside me, his hands on my face and he kissed me, his lips soft on mine, gently pushing my mouth open, his tongue sweeping across mine.  He kissed a line across my cheek to my ear and the steely voice was back.

“I’m going to tie you to my bed and fuck you so hard you’ll feel it for the next two weeks.”

My skin prickled with anticipation as his lips moved across my shoulder.  He drew a finger down the underside of my arm, along my ribs and I felt my nipples pucker at his touch.  He moved his hand to my breast and pinched the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.  I sighed, shivered.  His lips replaced his hand and he sucked the nipple between his teeth, teasing.  His hand moved to my other breast, twisting and pulling the nipple erect.  He sucked at the hard bud in his mouth, scraping the delicate flesh with his teeth and I groaned as he bit down.  He took his time, moving from one to the other, alternating between gentle sweeps of his tongue and lips and sharp nips with his teeth, and then he was gone. 

“Lie down on your stomach.”

I lay on my belly.  I heard him walk to the end of the bed.  His hand grasped my left leg and jerked it toward the corner of the bed.  I felt the silk of his tie as he wrapped it around my ankle and secured it there, and then he did the same with my right leg.  He slid a finger into each side, checking the tension.  I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.  I was excited and anxious, trying to get used to the loss of sight and the feeling of exposure with my legs tied apart.  I felt him kneel on the bed next to my head.

“Put your hands over your head with your wrists crossed.”

I did as he instructed and he carefully tied them together.

“I’m not going to tie your arms to the bed because of your hand, but keep them over your head.  Understand?”

“Yes.” I whispered.

I could hear him at the side of the bed, the soft sound of him unbuttoning and removing his shirt.  I heard him undo his belt and pull it from the belt loops.  I felt the leather at my shoulder, sliding down my back and across my bum.  I held my breath, wondering how far he would go.  There was a sudden, sharp sting as he smacked my buttock with the end of the belt and I gasped.  He ran a fingertip over the spot, then bent and ran his tongue over it and blew cool air across my skin. 

“Alright, my love?”

“Yes.”

As soon as I’d said it, there were two more quick slaps from his belt across my bum.  I groaned and squirmed against the bed, stunned by how much it hurt.  And by how much I liked it.

I heard his zipper and the sound of him undressing.  He climbed onto the bed between my legs and his hands slid under my hips.  He lifted me, pulled me closer until I was on my knees, my weight resting on my forearms.  His hand moved between my legs, pushing between my lower lips.  He stroked me with his fingers, exploring my folds, slick with my juices.  His long index finger slid into me and I exhaled, my hips rising to him.  He pinched my thigh and I jumped, my legs coming up short against their restraints.  He slipped a second finger inside me and twisted, pumping his hand into me.  Again my hips lifted to him and again he pinched my thigh, hard.

“Ooh, don’t.” I gasped.

“Are you sure?”  He asked.

I was quiet for a second, considering.  “No.  Keep going.”

He chuckled, and I wasn’t comforted by the sound.  He moved lower, gently nipping my flesh until he reached my centre, his tongue lapping at me.  His fingers moved over my clitoris as he poked his tongue into me.  My thigh muscles flexed as I forced myself to hold still.  He sucked at me, his tongue flicking quickly in and out and I couldn’t help myself, my hips bucked at him.  I squeaked as he pinched my buttock and I knew that this time it was hard enough to bruise.  He sat back and stroked my pussy, penetrating me with two fingers, then three, fucking me with his hand.

“Oh god, please.”

“Please what?  Tell me,” he said.

“I want you inside me.”

“Do you?” the hard edge back in his voice.  “Your wish is my command.”

He rose up onto his knees, and grasping himself, rubbed against my clit.  He moved to my entrance where his fingers had me ready for him, slippery-hot with arousal.  The head of his penis met his fingers and I waited for him to remove his hand, felt the pressure as he pushed his hard length against his fingers and started to move into me.  My breath caught as he penetrated, spreading me with his fingers, trying to make me accommodate his girth and his fingers together.  It was too much and I tried to pull away but was stopped by the ties on my ankles and his arm suddenly grasping me around the waist, holding me to him.

“Keep still.  Breathe.” He ordered, and pushed.

Not being able to look into his eyes I was completely reliant on the sound of his voice to gauge his state of mind and this new, cold voice was unknown to me.  Not being able to move away, tied open to him, had been exciting but now I was on the very fine edge of panic.

He pushed his cock along his fingers, pulled back and moved deeper into me and tears sprang to my eyes.

“No, please Benedict, you’re too big, I can’t.” 

He kept his hips still as his fingers inside me slid up and down his length, his knuckles dragging along the walls of my pussy. 

I heard his voice, gravel and velvet, “My beautiful girl, you can.  You are.” 

His sound of his voice along with that motion, the way he was stroking both of us together, flipped a switch inside me and I felt a wave of heat, of lust for him.  I moaned deep in my throat and slid my arms forward, dropping my head to the bed, opening myself to him.

He continued caressing us with his fingers, spreading my wetness over his length, slowly, slowly, forcing himself inside me.  I was groaning, sweating, the blindfold wet with tears and I heard him sigh as his balls came to rest against my clitoris.  For a moment, fully sheathed in me, he held completely still, giving me time to get used to the fullness, like nothing I’d ever experienced before. 

And then he started to move.  His hand held my hip as he pulled back, pressed forward, short strokes of his cock against his fingers on one side and the front of my vagina on the other.  The sensation strange, painful, thrilling.  I felt a trickle of moisture run down the inside of my thigh as he slid smoothly into me, his thrusts lengthening, speeding up.

“Jesus Kai, you can’t imagine what this feels like. You’re so tight, so wet.”

I spread my knees wider, raised my hips to his thrusting.  He drove himself into me, his balls slapping against my clit with every stroke.  I was sobbing, moaning, my body aching.  But I was also electrified, feeling a fierce joy that I could give him this, what he needed.  He made a growling sound and his movements suddenly changed, became erratic.  I felt him arch, his hips tight against me as he buried himself in me and he shouted my name, bucking hard with the spasms of his orgasm.  He fell forward, pushing me flat onto the bed and he quickly slid his fingers out of me as he lay shaking on top of me. 

He reached up and undid the tie that had covered my eyes, stroking my damp curls off my face.  I slowly opened my eyes, blinking at the light.  He pressed his lips to my back, rested his forehead on my spine, still breathing hard.

“Thank you.” He whispered, his breath warm on my skin.

“You’re welcome.”

He sat up and untied my ankles.  He smoothed his hands up the backs of my legs, over my buttocks to my back.  I rolled over and sat up, slipping my still bound hands over his head to the back of his neck and leaning back, pulled him down on top of me.  I knew him, knew that as soon as he had finished that he would start to doubt himself, to question if he’d gone too far and I didn’t want that.  I needed him to know that he had done everything right.  I drew him in, kissed him, pushing his lips open with mine, sliding my tongue over his teeth.  I feathered little kisses along his bearded jaw, over his Adam’s apple, my tongue darting into the deep hollow at the base of his throat.  My lips tickled across his neck and I sank my teeth into the top of his shoulder, sucking his salty flesh into my mouth until he groaned.  I let my head fall back and I looked into his eyes.

“Benedict.” I sighed.

 “You never call me that.”

“I’ve decided that Ben is sweet and kind and gentle.  And Benedict is a filthy, smutty, dangerous bastard.  And I love you both with all my heart.”

I could see the effect of my words, like watching the sun come out after a storm.  He smiled down at me, his eyes sparkling.

“How the hell did I get so lucky?  Jesus, I hope I never do anything to fuck this up.”

“Oh look, Ben’s back.”  I said with a grin.

He laughed. 

“Yes, for now.  And there’s something I need to do while I’m here.”

He ducked his head to my throat, kissed me. 

“And while I’m here.” He said.

He moved down my body, his hands on my breasts.

“And here.” He said, gently drawing a nipple into his mouth.  He sucked at my breasts, played with my nipples with tongue and fingers until they were hard as little pebbles and I was grinding my groin against him.

He moved lower, his tongue snaking down my belly and he rested his chin on my mound.

“And possibly here.” He said with a grin.

“Ssh,” I said, “too much talking.”

His tongue slid between my labia, licking, swirling; tasting me.  He found my clit and sucked it into his mouth, rasping the flat of his tongue against it, my hips pushing at him.  He buried his face in me, fucking me with his tongue and I reached for him, grasping his hair with my hands, still bound together.

“Untie me.” I said, holding my hands up to his face.

 He undid the knot and threw the tie over the side of the bed.  I pulled him to me, already so close to coming, needing to feel him inside me one more time.  I reached between our bodies with my left hand, wound my fingers around him and pulled, over and over, stroking him to hardness, sucking at his neck and moaning against his skin.

I reached down and swept my fingers under the head of his penis, pushed him down to my opening.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, please Ben, I need this.”

I sucked air between my teeth as he slowly slipped inside me.  I was shocked at how sore I was, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered as he moved with me.  I wrapped my arms around him, keeping his body tight to mine, craving the contact, knowing this was the last time until I saw him again.  His mouth was on mine and we kissed, sloppy, noisy kisses, our breath coming hard.  His hand went to my clit, hard and slippery under his fingers.

“Ben, oh, oh god, I’m so close…”

He put his hands on either side of my head, holding his weight and he ground his groin against mine, his pelvic bone driving against mine and I cried out as I came, snapping my hips against his.  I heard his strangled moan, his lips on my neck as he came with me, deep inside me and I stroked the smooth skin of his back as we came down to earth.

He rolled us onto our sides and we lay, not talking but still, somehow, saying good bye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Working Through It, Or Not...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben goes, Kai stays, life goes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only have one thing to say about this chapter: Don't hate me because Skype actually worked for once. This ain't real life people...  
> Hope you enjoy!

What You Put into the World

Chapter 10 – Working Through It, Or Not

 

I waited at the front door while Ben ran through his mental checklist, making sure he hadn’t forgotten to pack anything.

“O.K. I think I’ve got everything.”

“Did you get your script from the coffee table?”

“Fuck.  Just a minute.”

He ran into the sitting room and came back a moment later with the script in his hand.

“What an almighty cock-up that would have been, it’s got all my notes in it.” He said, grinning sheepishly as he jammed the script into the outside pocket of his leather carry-on bag.

“O.K., ready?” he asked, picking up a bag in each hand.

“No.”

He smiled and kissed me on the forehead.

“No, neither am I.”

I sighed and opened the door for him, then turned out the light, picked up my own bag and followed him down the stairs.

I unlocked the car and we threw our things in the boot.  Ben held his hand out for the keys.  I closed my hand around them and went to the driver’s side door.

“You’re driving?”

“You always drive.”

“It’s my car.”

“I need to make sure I can drive with this on my hand.” I said, showing him the bandage on my palm.

“A likely excuse.” He groused, but he got into the passenger seat.

I fired up the engine and pulled into the street.  I headed for Heathrow, negotiating through the last of the rush hour traffic.  By the time we hit the A406, I was zipping around buses and slower cars.

“Kai, are you in a hurry to get rid of me?”

“Of course not.”

“Why are you driving so fast?”

“This is how I drive.” I said with a grin, “Am I scaring you?”

“No.  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, given the bike you ride.”

“I like going fast and this car is meant to be driven like this.”

“I think I’ll submit your name to Top Gear.”

I laughed and geared down for a roundabout, whipping around the corner and into the next turn.  We made good time and I finally slowed, pulling off the M4 and heading for the terminal.

“Pull into the car park and I’ll walk over.”

“Why?  I can drop you right at your terminal.”

“Press; people with cell phones.  There’s always someone with a camera.  It’s you I’m trying to protect, your privacy.  Things have quieted down for you since I’ve been away, haven’t they?”

“I haven’t been followed since I got back from the States if that’s what you mean.  Anyway, a photo is hardly the same thing as interrogating my co-workers.  If they want to take pictures of us where’s the harm?  We’re together and I don’t care who knows it.  Do you?”

“Certainly not.”

“Besides,” I said, pulling into the drop-off area, “you said there would be tons of press at that premiere in September.  I’m going to have to get used to it sooner or later.”

I cut the engine and turned in my seat to look at him.

“Yes, you will.” He said, reaching for my hand and bringing it to his lips.

“Let’s go then,” I said and got out of the car, walking to the boot.

I passed him his bags and he dropped them to the pavement beside the car.  He stood, looking down at me and I felt a lump forming in my throat.

“What’s two weeks,” I asked, as I had once before “it’s nothing, right?”

“Nothing,” he agreed, “hardly worth saying goodbye.”

I gulped, tears welling in my eyes and I fisted my hands in his shirt, pulling him close, resting my forehead on his chest as he stroked my hair.  I looked up at him.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice cracking, “I meant to be tougher than this.”

He smiled, “Is this where I say that I’m happy that you’re sad to see me go?”

“What kind of person would admit that?” I asked, laughing through my tears as we repeated our old conversation, finding some solace in our having a history together.

“Kiss me.” He said and I did, my arms wrapped around his slim waist.  He kissed me back as though his life depended on it. 

He whispered, “I love you.”

“I know you do.” I said.

He picked up his bags and walked through the doors, turning to look back at me.  I smiled, waved and as I turned to walk back to the car, I caught the eye of a man just lowering his camera, standing a couple of feet away.

“Get what you needed?” I called.

“Hope so, miss.”

“Don’t print any where I look ugly.” I said, winking at him and he grinned.  I figured it couldn’t hurt to play nice.

I drove home, calling ahead to let Jem know I was on my way.  By the time I arrived, there was a pizza on the table and a bottle of wine open.

“Good old Jeremy,” I said, tousling his hair, “carbs and booze to soothe my wounded heart.”

We sat in the kitchen, eating and catching up.  He’d noticed my hand right away.   I explained how I’d burned myself, and asked if he’d change the bandage for me in the morning before I went to work.  I told him about Ben buying the ridiculously expensive gift for Chloe’s shower and about Tamsin being at the shop.

“I wish I could have seen her face.  Did you really call her Tamarind?”

“Yes, and I’m going to keep calling her that until she gets my name right.  Honestly, it’s one syllable, how hard can it be?”

“So, Ben paid for our present.  Things are going well then?”

“Yes.  Every time I see him again Jem, it just knocks the breath right out of me.”

“Good for you, Maple Leaf.”

 “Jem, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

Jeremy was the best friend I had and I knew he meant it.

“Have you ever tied anyone up or used a blindfold?  In bed, I mean.”

He grinned.  “Yes.”

“Were you just messing around or were you serious?”

“Serious?  No.   I mean, fuzzy pink hand cuffs she had left over from a hen party and a silk scarf around the eyes, but not scary or anything.”  He frowned.  “Why?”

“Well…look, Jem, this isn’t easy for me to talk about, O.K?  I keep going over and over it in my head, but frankly, I’m completely baffled.  I’ve never been into the whole idea of bondage, I never got the allure.  I’ve ever been into pain as a part of sex.”

“Is he hurting you?”

“Yes.”

“That bastard…” He said, instantly furious, jumping up from the table.

“Whoa, Jem, hold on,” I’d never seen him this angry and protective.  “He’s not done anything I didn’t want him to do.”

“What?”

“Sit down.  Calm down.”  I poured more wine into both of our glasses.  “Let me start over.”

I told him about New Orleans, about how I’d encouraged Ben to be rougher.  I told him everything but a few of the more intimate details.

“I mean, he’d always been a bit of a biter, but the thing is Jem, that I’m the one who pushed him.  I’m the one who wanted it first.

“And now he’s running with it?”

“Yes.  And I like it.  The further we go, the more I like it.  The harder he pushes, the more I want.  And I don’t understand why.”

“So, you don’t want it to stop, you just want to know why you like it?”

“Right.”

He thought for a minute, sipping his wine. 

“Haven’t you talked to him about it?”

“Not really.  I mean, I’ve told him I don’t know why I want this, but I haven’t asked him why he does; if he even knows why he does.  I’m sorry, I know this is a lot to throw at you, but it’s driving me crazy and I need to talk it through with someone.  Someone who isn’t Ben, because I feel like if I knew what was going on with me, I might understand what was going on with him.”

“Well, I think that’s it in a nutshell, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s all about control.  I know your history, how you came to be living here, and why.  I think that since you took control of your life, you’re afraid to give it up.  You’re the most controlled person I know.  Since we’ve met, I’ve seen you drink, but rarely too much.  You have a toke, but never get too high.  You never oversleep or call in to work sick.  You drive way too fast, but you’re never out of control.   And I think that since you met Ben, you’re finally feeling safe and your need to control everything is starting to slip away, so you’re letting him take the reins, at least as far as sex is concerned.  But you haven’t sat him down and talked to him about it, because you need to figure it out first.  So you can control it.”

“Holy shit.” I whispered.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, I think maybe you are.  Jesus, Jeremy, how did you get so smart?”

“It’s a gift.  So, if it’s all about giving up control for you, what’s going on with him?”

I thought about it, considered the life he led.

“I don’t actually have any idea, but he’s said that this is all new to him too, so if I had to take a wild guess?  What’s he really in control of in his life?  He can decide which parts he takes and which he doesn’t, but he’s got no control over what’s offered to him.  He doesn’t get to decide where he’s going to be working and for how long.  He can’t go out without being recognized or having his picture taken or having strangers intrude on his personal life.  So, where does he get to exert control?”

“Maybe.  You’ll have to ask him.”

“Damn Jem, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  I hope it helps.”

“And what about the pain thing?  Where does that come in?”

“No idea.  Maybe you’re just a couple of freaks, lucky to have found one another.”  He said with a big smile.

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah?”

 “Fuck off.”

The next morning Jem got up early to help with my dressing before I left for work.  I had him pad it really well and threw some gloves from the first aid kit into my bag.  I was drinking my coffee when my mobile rang.  My friend Leah was surprised that I answered as she’d expected to get my voicemail.  I told her I only had a minute before I had to leave for work and she said she’d only called to make sure she’d see me at Chloe’s on Saturday.

“Absolutely, I wouldn’t miss it.  I spent ages at that damned store yesterday looking for the right present.”

“You got Chloe’s gift yesterday?” And she started laughing.

“Yes.  Why is that funny?”

“No reason.  Kai, I have to run.  I have a bunch of calls to make.  I’ll see you Saturday, O.K?”

She hung up and I stared at the phone.  Leah wasn’t usually so odd.  I grabbed my stuff and ran out the front door to my bike.  As I threw my leg over the saddle, I winced and thought back to yesterday.  Benedict had said I’d feel it for the next two weeks and I wondered if it might be true.  I nearly took his car instead.

I walked into Bev’s office, pulling off my biking gloves and poured a coffee before joining her at her desk to get my schedule for the week.

“Lovely to see you Kai.  How are things with your movie star?”

“Things are fantastic Bev.  Thank you again for the extra day off.  I owe you.”

“It’s good to see you so happy.  What’s going on with your hand?”

I explained, but assured her I could work around it.

“For crying out loud, are you sure?”

“Of course.  Don’t worry Bev, it’s well padded and I’ll wear a latex glove inside my work glove.”

“There’s something else.  Have you seen a newspaper this morning?”

“No.  Why?”

She slid a paper across the desk and I picked it up, looking at the page she’d folded it open to.  There were two pictures of Ben and I shopping for Chloe’s present below the sort of headline typical for a British tabloid; huge font, salacious and completely wrong.  Now I understood Leah’s phone call.

“Oh for Christ’s sake Bev, I am not ‘expecting a Cumberbaby’.”  I quoted in disgust, trying to figure out from the angle if the pictures were Tamsin’s work or that of the shop keeper.  “We were shopping for my friend.”

“I see.”

“Come on, Bev, you’re from here, you should know you can’t believe everything they print.”

“I know, but you can see how it looks?”

“It looks like two people shopping.  And that’s all it was.” I said, throwing the paper back on her desk.

“Alright then, grab your book; you’ve got a busy week.”

I wrote down details and addresses and was packing my things back into my bag when the front door opened and Alicia walked in.  I hadn’t seen her since I’d been back from New Orleans, so I hadn’t had a chance to confirm it had been her who had told the reporter about me.

“Morning Alicia.”

“Kai, I haven’t seen you in ages.  How are you?”  She wouldn’t make eye contact and I just knew.

“I’m great Alicia, thanks for asking.  And you?  Heard from your reporter friend lately?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She said, still unable to meet my eyes.

“I think you do.  How could you do that to me, Alicia?”

“What’s going on?” asked Bev.

“Alicia is the one who talked to that reporter who followed me here.  She gave him my name, told him where I was from.   Generally stuck her nose in where it had no business being.”

“Oh Alicia, you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I wasn’t thinking.  It all seemed so exciting at the time, that I knew a famous person’s girlfriend.  I got caught up and, and…he paid me.”

“You literally sold me out.” I was crushed.  “I hope he paid you enough to buy yourself some dignity.  Bev, if you need me to work with her I will, but if it’s at all possible, I’d rather work with one of the others, Phil or Martin, at least until I can be sure I can trust her not to call her friend at the paper and tell him what I ate for lunch.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Said Bev.

 “Thank you.  I’m going to go.”

I went outside and stood by my bike, taking deep breaths and trying to calm down before I drove anywhere.  I had suspected Alicia, but now that I knew for sure, it was even harder to come to terms with.  I felt completely betrayed.  Having my picture taken was one thing, but having people know about my personal life was different.  I wanted to be the one to decide what people knew or didn’t know. 

I also felt profoundly grateful for Bev.  She’d made every effort to accommodate me with time off so I could be with Ben and now she seemed to understand how hard it would be for me to work with Alicia.  I pulled out my phone and ordered a dozen yellow roses to be delivered to her office, and then feeling calmer, I climbed on the Ducati and roared off to work.

It was just after five when I pulled up and parked in front of my house.  As I was unlocking the front door, I heard someone call my name.  I turned around to see Bev coming up the stairs behind me.

“Kai, can we talk?”

“Of course, come in.” 

She’d never been to my house and I had no idea why she was here now.

She followed me to the kitchen and sat at the table while I put the kettle on.  I went to hang my jacket up while I waited for the water to boil.  When the tea was ready, I carried it to the table.

“O.K. Bev, what’s going on?” I asked, pouring her a cup.

She sighed, “Kai, this is really difficult for me.  I like you very much and I think you’re a wonderful asset; every single one of your clients raves about your work.  But as I said before, I have a business to run and I need to be able to rely on my people to go where I need them, when I need them to and I need to be able to schedule people when and where I see fit.”

I felt a cold chill run down my back.

“I’m happy for you, I really am, but I also believe that things are only going to get more complicated for you and that means they’ll also get more complicated for me.  I can’t have that.”

“Bev, are you firing me?”

“No, I’m suggesting you take some time off; a sabbatical.  Take a few months to sort things out and come back next spring if you still want to.  I’m so sorry Kai, even though I know that Alicia was in the wrong, I have to put my business first.” 

“No, of course you do.”  I was stunned.  I wanted to be angry, to shout at her, but I couldn’t.  I thought she was probably right about my life getting more complicated.

“I can keep you on for two more weeks to give you time to make some kind of plan.”

“No, that’s alright Bev.  I’d rather just make a clean break if it’s all the same to you.”

“I thought you might say that.” She pulled a piece of folded paper from her handbag and slid it across the table, “If you decide to look for another job, if you need a reference, it’ll be a glowing one.”

“Goodbye Bev.”

She got up and let herself out.  I picked up the piece of paper and unfolded it.  It was a letter of recommendation and a cheque for two weeks’ pay.  I left them on the table and went outside for a cigarette.  I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach.  I’d worked so hard to get my horticultural certification and I was proud of the work I did.  I’d only been able to move to the U.K. because Bev had hired me, getting me my visa.  And now what?  I stubbed my cigarette out and went inside, picking up my phone.

“Jem,” I said when he picked up, “are you busy?”

“I am a bit; the dinner rush is just starting.  What’s up?”

“I just got sort of fired and I want a drink.”

“Bloody hell.  I’m on my way.”

“No, stay there, I’ll come to your place.”

I called a taxi and changed my clothes, downing a couple of shots of whiskey in the process.

I walked into the café and Jem immediately came over and gave me a hug.

“Come have a drink, tell me what happened.”

I sat at the bar and told him everything, from the pictures in the paper to Bev coming to the house, while throwing back another shot of whiskey and starting on a pint of IPA.

“What can I do?”

“You can keep my glass full and go up on stage and sing me sad country songs until I remember my life isn’t really so bad.”

He laughed.  “I can do both of those things.  Have you eaten anything?”

“No.”

“I’ll make you a burger so you have something to throw up later while I hold your hair.”

I knew better than to argue with him when he was in Mama Bear mode.  I was already starting to feel the effects of the drinks I’d had and there was nothing I hated more than being a sloppy drunk.  I ate the burger.  Monday night wasn’t a usual music night, but there were always a few regulars in the place willing to get up and play, so true to his word, Jem got up with his guitar and played one sad song after another until I gave him a thumbs up and he left the stage to let the others play something a bit more upbeat.

“Thanks Jem.  That was exactly what I needed.”

My phone rang and I pulled it from my pocket.  It was Ben.

“Can I use your office?” I asked Jem.

He nodded and I grabbed my drink off the bar and answered the phone as I walked down the hall. 

“Hello there.” I said.

“Hello yourself.  Look, Kai, I’ve just had the most extraordinary chat with my Mum.  There were pictures in the papers of us in that baby shop on Monday.  Mum was going bonkers until I could get a word in edgeways and explain why we were there.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen them.  My boss showed me this morning and I had the strangest conversation with my friend Leah today and I’m pretty sure that’s why.”

“Well, you might want to call your parents and give them the big news yourself, before they hear about it like mine did.”

“Oh shit.  My Mother’s going to kill me if she hears about this before I call her.”

“I’ll let you go then.  Call me tomorrow.”

“Wait, Ben, there’s something else.  I lost my job today.”

“What?  Tell me what happened.”

“I got laid off because Bev thinks my life is getting too complicated.”

I told him about confronting Alicia and about Bev coming to my house.

“Oh Kai, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.  It really isn’t.  I can’t even be angry at Bev, not really.  She’s right, she’s got a business to run and my personal life was interfering with that.”

“But that is my fault.  I asked you to come to New Orleans.  I showed up in London unannounced.”

“It’s not your fault that I asked not to work with Alicia.  And I wouldn’t trade New Orleans or last weekend for anything.”

“Come to Caracas.”

I hesitated.

“Come to Caracas and forget about real life for a while.  Read books by the pool and drink cocktails with umbrellas in them and spend time with me.  When I’m done here we can go home and I’ll help you figure out what comes next.  Come have a holiday.”

“That’s very tempting.”

“So come.”

“As much as I’d love to forget about real life, I don’t know if it’s the best idea right now.  Can I think about it?”

“Of course you can, I just wanted you to know it’s an option.  Let me know, whatever you decide.  You know I’d love to have you here with me.”

We hung up and I went back to the bar.  Now that I’d talked to Ben I felt much calmer and I didn’t feel so much like getting drunk.  I switched to water and hung out, listening to music and chatting with customers.  I stayed until closing, helped Jem clean up, and then he drove us home. 

Since my Mum was still on deployment,  it would be nearly impossible for me to get her on the phone, so I wrote her a quick email with the subject line ‘No I’m bloody not!’ and called my Dad to make sure that he knew what was going on.  Typical Dad, he thought it was hilarious and listening to him laugh into the phone cheered me immensely.

I spent the rest of the week thinking about what I was going to do with myself.  I updated my resume and searched job listings, but the end of the summer was a terrible time to be looking for gardening work.   I started to expand my job search away from straight gardening positions and found one that looked promising.  There was a small estate looking for a groundskeeper and I thought I was probably qualified enough to apply, but it was 300 kilometres from London and I wasn’t that desperate yet.  I knew I could always pick up a few shifts at Jem’s if money got really tight, but hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

It poured rain all week, but Saturday, the morning of Chloe’s party, dawned bright and sunny.  Chloe’s husband Liam answered the door and as it opened, we heard a burst of laughter from the other side of the house.  Jem and Liam had grown up on the same street and had known each other since they were six years old. 

“Thank god,” said Liam, “another man.”

“Feeling outnumbered?” Jem asked.

“There are at least 30 women drinking Pimm’s and champagne in the back garden and all I’ve been doing for the last hour is filling their glasses and trying to keep their children from breaking everything.  Please, do come in.”

He got us each a drink and we headed outside.  The garden was festooned in pink and white streamers with balloons everywhere.  I caught Leah’s eye across the lawn and waved.  She came straight over.

“So,” I asked, “get all your phone calls made the other day?”

“You should thank me,” she said with a big grin, “if I hadn’t called you to find out what the hell was going on, you’d have had fifty phone calls.  Everyone was flipping out.”

“Thank you Leah.  Next time, don’t be so cryptic, just ask me.”

Chloe joined us, tiny, blond and hardly looking pregnant at all in her white sundress.

“You look gorgeous,” I said, giving her a hug, “but where’s the baby?”

“Oh please, I feel as big as a house!  How’ve you been?  We’ve not seen much of you lately.”

“Yeah,” I smiled, “I’ve had quite a busy couple of months.”

“So I gather.  Can I assume from the drink in your hand that the newspapers got it wrong?  You’re not pregnant?” She was grinning.

“No, I’m not.  We were shopping for your gift.”

“I recognized the store, so that’s what I thought all along,” she laughed.  “Come sit and tell me about him.”

Chloe, Leah and I sat at one of the tables set up on the lawn and they started asking questions.  I answered them, mostly, but kept some things to myself since we weren’t sitting alone.  Before long, as people started to realize who we were talking about, they started to gravitate into earshot.  Chloe was no stranger to famous people, given the way she’d grown up, so she wasn’t as star struck as some of our other friends might be.  When Ben and I were alone or with his friends, the fact that he was so well known didn’t matter; he was just Ben to us.  But other than Jeremy, Ben hadn’t met any of my friends yet, so they could only really see him as _Benedict Cumberbatch_ , not like a real person at all.  Seeing the whole thing through their eyes only made me more aware of how surreal it all was.

“Well, I’ve met him and he seems perfectly ordinary in person,” brayed a familiar voice, “Hello Kay.”

“Hello Tamarind.” I heard Jem, standing behind me, snort with laughter.  “I would never describe him as ordinary myself, but I’m biased.”

“Jeremy, Kai?” shouted Liam from the doorway, “your gift just arrived.”

 “Let’s go,” I said, giving Chloe a hand to get out of her chair, “come see what we got for you.”

We went inside and followed Liam and the delivery men up the stairs to the nursery.  The two men from the shop set about unpacking and assembling the baby cot.  Liam and Chloe were thrilled and I told them that it was from the three of us, Jem, me and Ben.

“He’s never even met us.  Why would he buy us a present?” asked Liam.

“He’s baby mad and generous.  And I think he just liked it.”

“He likes her,” said Jem, pointing at me, “that’s why.”

After we’d gone back to the garden to watch Chloe open the rest of her presents and had a bite to eat, Jem said he had to get to the café, so we said our goodbyes and left.  It had been a lovely afternoon and it had been a relief not to be thinking about my own life for a while.  After Jem left for work, I ran a bath and was soaking when Ben called.

“The present was a big hit.” I told him.

“That’s good, I’m glad they liked it.  How are you?  Have you given any more thought to coming to Venezuela?”

“I have.  As wonderful as it sounds and as much as I want to see you, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed.  “Why not?”

“Because it’s not going to fix anything.  I think I need to stay here and decide what to do next.  If I come to you, I’ll just be running away from the problem; it’ll still be here when I get back.”

“Yes, that’s true.  On the other hand, if you did come, you’d have a wonderful holiday, we’d be together, and the problem would still be there when you got back.  You can deal with it then.”

“No Ben.  I need to stay at home and look for a job.  I need to get on this.”

“Why the urgency?  If you need money, you know I’ll help.”

“First, I don’t want to have to take money from you to pay my bills.  Second and more importantly, if I don’t have a job, I don’t have a visa.  I could be deported.”

“Oh Christ, I didn’t think of that.  How long?”

“Sixty days.”

“That’s loads of time.  You’ll find something before then.”

“And then I’ll have to reapply under the new employer and hope I get approved.  I’m not sure that if I left the country right now that they’d even let me back in.”

“Do you have a lawyer, someone who knows about immigration?”

“No.”

“I’ll call Robert and have him find someone.  And don’t say you don’t need one or that you don’t want me to pay for it.  Let me help with this.  I have a vested interest in keeping you in England.”

“I don’t want to leave either.  I’d be grateful for a lawyer’s help with this.  And yours.”

“Try not to worry, we’ll fix this.”

“Hurry up and finish your stupid movie and come home,” I said grouchily, “I need you.”

He laughed, “I’m acting as fast as I can.”

Even though the next day was Sunday, I got a call from Ben’s business manager, Robert.  He’d called around and found an immigration lawyer who came highly recommended and he gave me his number, telling me he would be expecting my call.  I phoned the office first thing in the morning and made an appointment to see him on Tuesday.  His office was in the city, so I decided to go spend the night at Ben’s since it was closer than my house.  I packed a bag and left Jeremy a note.  I climbed the stairs to Ben’s flat with my pack over my shoulder and a couple of bags of groceries. 

I stepped through the door, sniffing the air for the familiar scent of him that lingered.  ‘Damn’ I thought with a smile, ‘I’ve got it bad’.

I put away the food I’d brought and walked out onto the terrace.  The rain from last week had done a number on the climbing roses and the whole thing was looking uncared for.  My hand was healing well; I only needed a small plaster instead of the big dressing I’d had on it before, so I was able to spend the afternoon pruning and tidying, washing the table and chairs and sweeping the mess away.  When I was done, I took a couple of pictures and sent them to Ben.

He texted me back, ‘Very nice, very domestic.  Send one of you.”

I loved that he couldn’t bring himself to use abbreviations in his texts or poor grammar; he always wrote everything as though he was speaking and I could practically hear his voice as I read them.  I sat on one of the benches and fluffed my hair, took a picture and sent it.

“That’s lovely,” he responded, “but why so much clothing?”

I grinned and undid the buttons on my shirt, untucking it.  I leaned back on the bench, took another picture and sent it.

“That’s better, but why so much clothing?”

“Stop it.” I answered.

“One more.” He sent.

“No.”

“Please?”

I sat up and looked around.  No one could see me when I was lying on the bench.  I pulled my shirt off and unhooked my bra, then tried to find a position where I didn’t feel like I was flopping around all over the place.  I finally got a picture that I was happy with, took a deep breath and sent it.   I waited.  And waited, and finally my phone beeped.

“Sorry for the delay, I had my hands full.”

Laughing, I hit the speed dial for his number.

“I’m not sure if I’m flattered or disgusted.” I said when he answered.

“I hope you’re flattered.  I’m in my trailer on set, trying to be quiet so everyone won’t know what I’m doing.”

“Ben!  I thought you were joking.”

“No.  Do you have your laptop with you?”

“Yes.”

“Get into bed and Skype me.”

“I will not.”

“Yes, you will.”

“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

“Go upstairs and take your clothes off.  I want to watch you touch yourself.” 

As happened so often, it was the sound of his voice that got me.

“Two minutes.” I said and hung up.

I grabbed my laptop and ran upstairs, closing the curtains in the bedroom and turning on the bedside lamp.  I found a couple of books to put the computer on, took my clothes off and climbed onto the bed, waiting for Skype to connect us.  He smiled when he saw me.

“Stack the pillows behind you and lean back so I can see more of you.”

I could see that he was lying on his side on the bed in his trailer with his shirt open and his computer beside him.  I moved the pillows and turned my laptop until he could see me.

“Close your eyes and listen to my voice.”

I smiled, thinking this might be easier than I’d expected.  I leaned back into the pillows and waited for his next instruction.

“I want you to touch your breasts.  Run your palms over your nipples until they get hard.”

I did as he said, smoothing my hands over my skin, feeling my nipples start to pucker at my touch.

“Remember how it feels when I kiss you, my mouth on yours, pressing your lips against your teeth, coaxing you open so I can slide my tongue in, stroke it against yours.  Now push your breasts together and pinch your nipples with your fingers.  Pull them up hard like I would.”

I listened to his voice, thought about how it felt when he touched me, when he played with my nipples, twisting, rolling them between his fingers as they stood up.

“That’s lovely,” I heard him shift position, “keep going.  Imagine my mouth on your soft skin, my lips moving over your throat, my teeth on that sensitive spot right at the top of your shoulder and moving down, taking your nipple in my mouth, sucking it.”

I sighed and squeezed the hard points between my fingers, imagining him there next to me, the warmth as his mouth closed over my breast, his tongue circling over me.

“I’m moving lower, licking, biting across your belly and pushing your thighs apart.  Move your hand now; put it between your legs.”

I slowly skimmed my hand down my torso.  I raised one knee and slid my hand between my legs.  I opened my eyes and looked at him.  His fringe had fallen across one eye and I could see his cheeks were flushed.   I smiled and he smiled back.

“Close your eyes.” He said.

“No, I want to watch you too.  Tit for tat, I think the expression is.”

“Don’t make me laugh, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Move your computer back, I can’t see you.” I said.

He moved back on his bed, pushing the computer away so I could see more of him.

“Better?” He asked.

“Much.  Where were we?”

“You were about to touch yourself for me.”

I slid a finger between my lower lips, slowly stroking against my clitoris.  I watched Ben as his hand moved down to grip low on his shaft, his fingers so much longer than mine, wrapping around himself.  I moved my finger in time to his strokes.

“Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“I’m feeling excited, aroused, and a bit shy.  It’s weird doing this when you’re not in the same room.  I feel like I’m on display.”

“You are and it’s gorgeous.  Keep going; tell me what it feels like when you touch yourself.”

“I’m wet, slippery.  My clit is hard under my finger and when I press down I can feel it all the way to my belly button.  It feels good.”

I rolled part way onto my hip so I was facing him and with my knee still raised, slid my hand lower, stroking myself with two fingers.  I watched him on the screen, his eyes as they swept from my face to my hand.  I watched him as he moved his hand along his cock, pulling and twisting.  I rose onto my elbow and slowly pushed one finger inside myself, pumping it in and out of my wet heat, then a second finger.

“My fingers are inside me Ben; tell me how it feels when you do it.”

“You’re hot and tight around my fingers, I can feel every time your muscles clench and tighten around them.  I keep thinking about how you taste, sweet and salty.  The way your skin smells like bergamot and sex.”

“Jesus Ben,” I moaned, my breath coming faster and I pressed my thumb against my clit, pushing hard with every movement of my fingers.

“I wish you were here with me,” I said, “I want to run my tongue around the head of your cock.  I want to feel your hips pushing at me when I take you deep into my mouth, when I try to take you all the way into my throat.”

“Kai, I’m getting close.”  His hand was jerking hard, the veins in his forearm standing out against his skin.

“Talk to me, I need to hear your voice.” I said, my fingers now on my clit, circling, grinding hard as my hips moved.

“I – fucking hell – I want to be pushing myself into you, sinking into your heat, feeling you stretch around me, taking me in, oh Christ, Kai...”

His head dropped back and I heard him groan, saw the muscles tense in his throat.  I fell back onto the pillows, my hips straining upward against my hand, my fingers working my clit.

“Come for me,” He said, his voice hoarse, “I want to watch you come.”

I pressed my head into the pillows, my back arching as I moaned from deep in my chest, felt my release gathering in my groin.  I knew he was watching me, could hear his breathing.  I squeezed my thighs around my hand, moving my fingers as fast as I could.  I moved my other hand to my breast, pinching the nipple, digging my thumbnail into it and I came hard, groaning as I bore down on my own skin.

I lay still for a minute, waiting to get my breath back, and then reached for the duvet, pulling it over me as I opened my eyes to look at Ben.

“That was fucking amazing.  You’re fucking amazing.” He said.

I started laughing.

“You’re not so bad yourself, the things you said…my god but you have a vocabulary.”

“Yes, I believe I was nominated for sexiest vocabulary.”

“Well, you get my vote.”

“You get mine as well.”

“For what?” I asked.

“Anything.  Everything.  Pick something and I’ll vote for you.”

“God, but you make me laugh; I love it when you’re silly.”

“That’s my specialty, silliness.  And filthy language.”

“You have many specialties you beautiful man.  How much longer until you’re home?”

“Exactly seven days if we stay on schedule.”

“Can I pick you up at the airport?”

“I’d very much like that.  I’ll let you know what time.”

“Good.  And don’t shave your horrible beard.”

“Oh fuck, you haven’t gone and bought a straight razor?”

“No,” I said with a grin, “I haven’t had a chance to learn how to use one yet, but I still want to shave your face, even if it’s with a boring modern safety razor.”

“Because you think it’s sexy?”

“Yes.  And so will you.  I promise.”

“I believe you.  You haven’t lied to me yet.”

“And I never will.”

“I know.  I better go and have a shower before they call me back to set.”

“Alright.  I’m seeing the immigration attorney tomorrow.  I’ll let you know what he says.”

“Goodbye my love.”

“Goodbye Ben.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Flicking the Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai keeps looking for a fix to her visa problem and gets a reminder of the difficulty of dating a famous person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really should have called this chapter 'Boy these people talk a lot.'  
> My O.C. goes into more detail in this chapter about why she's finding herself increasingly drawn to a more dominant Ben (I mean, besides the obvious). For those who have a deeper understanding of dom/sub relationships or BDSM lifestyles, please understand that her explanations are hers only, as imagined by me. My intent isn't to imply that Kai's understanding of the psychology behind their desires is typical, or even necessarily correct for anyone else, it's simply my interpretation of my fictional character's mindsets. Obviously, if I've made any statements that in general, anyone feels are egregiously incorrect or open to misinterpretation, I'd be happy if you'd let me know. That being said, it's just a fanfic, not a manual.  
> Thanks.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 11 – Flicking the Switch

 

I got up early, took my coffee and notebook onto the terrace and I wrote down all the questions I had for the immigration lawyer so I wouldn’t forget anything in our meeting.  I got dressed and headed into the city. 

His office was high up in a huge glass tower and as I rode the elevator, I started getting nervous.  Over the past few years, I had done everything I could to move my life in the direction I wanted to go, had worked so hard to make opportunities for myself instead of sitting passively by and waiting for my life to happen.  And now, with each floor that passed, I was getting closer to finding out how much of my fate was out of my own hands and that was a feeling that I had grown to despise.  I also couldn’t shake the very real worry that I might be forced to leave the U.K.  And Ben.  I stepped out of the elevator and presented myself to the receptionist.

After a brief wait I was shown into the office and introduced to my solicitor, Mr. Lancer, a graceful gentleman of about sixty years, wearing a classic pinstriped suit.  He shook my hand and offered tea or coffee but my stomach was roiling and I declined. 

“Let’s get straight to it then.  I understand you’re having a spot of bother with your visa?”

“That may be understating it a bit.  I initially received my visa when I was hired as a landscaper and gardener and I arrived in the U.K. in January of this year.  I was laid off from my job a week ago, so now I need to know what my options are.  I don’t want to leave Britain Mr. Lancer.”

He asked question after question, clarified dates and made notes.  Eventually, he leaned back in his chair and said I had a few alternatives.

“Off the top of my head, the first thing we’ll do is apply for an extension, see if we can get you a little more time before the axe drops.  Obviously the best thing would be for you to get another job as soon as possible and we could look at expediting a visa transfer to the new employer.  With the visa you already hold, you also have the option of transferring to an entrepreneurial visa and opening your own business.  The first thing you should know about that is that you must be able to guarantee that you have access to funds of greater than 50,000 pounds in the bank to even be considered.  Or you could marry a British citizen but they can be a bit sticky about it if you haven’t known each other for longer than two years, and you’ve only been here for eight months.”

“Just off the top of your head?” I asked.

“I’ve been doing this for some time,” he acknowledged with a smile.  “Those are the simplest and most immediate alternatives.”

Mr. Lancer had me sign the application for extension and told me he’d be in touch.  He was so reassuring, sounded so confident that we could find a way out of the whole mess that I left the office feeling as though an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  I was in such a good mood that I made a side trip to Taylor of Old Bond Street and bought a badger brush and shaving soap set for when Ben got home.

When I got back to Ben’s I called Jeremy and told him the good news and I texted Ben asking him to call when he could so I could tell him what the lawyer had said.  I was drying my supper dishes when my phone rang.

“I’m only on a short break my love, but I wanted to hear about your meeting.”

“Will you thank Robert for me?  Mr. Lancer is wonderful, like an extremely calm and helpful grandfather.  He’s applying for an extension to my visa and he made it sound like nothing to get it transferred to a new employer as soon as I find one.”

“Was that it?  He didn’t have any miracles to offer?”

“He did say that I could start my own business and switch my visa.”

“Is that something you’d want to do?  Start your own company?”

“It’s always been in the back of my mind, but it’s not very realistic; I’d have to rob a bank first.”

“How much?”

“Ben.  Don’t.”

“How much Kai?  Tell me.”

 “Fifty thousand.” I sighed, pissed off at myself for even mentioning it.  I should have known better.

“Easily done.  That’s quite literally a small price to pay to keep you in Britain.  And don’t get all up in arms and say you aren’t taking my money.  You don’t have to make up your mind right now, it’s something to consider, that’s all.  You might find a new job tomorrow and if you do, problem solved.  But if not, tell me you’ll at least think about letting me help you.”

“I’ll think about it.” I smiled into the phone, “Ben?  Thank you.  Thank you for not hesitating, for not even thinking twice before offering.  I know I get my knickers in a twist every time we talk about money and that’s my pride talking, but it means the world to me that you’d offer it.”

“Your independence is only one of the things I love about you.  And you’re welcome.”

“Call me tomorrow?”

“I may call you back later tonight.  Perhaps if your knickers are so twisted, you should take them off, just in case.”

“Goodbye you silly, silly man.”

“Wait, was that a yes?”

Laughing, I hung up.

The next morning, I had an email response from a plant nursery I’d applied to, asking me to come in for an interview on Thursday.  The job was mostly sales but also some consulting and a bit of work at the customer’s homes.  It wasn’t ideal, but at this point, I just needed to get hired somewhere.  I spent Wednesday night at home so I could collect my portfolio to take along for the interview.  I left my house in a wonderful mood, raced down the streets on my bike, singing to myself.  The interview started very well, but as soon as the subject of my visa came up, the good will came to a crashing halt.  The owner was very nice, but wasn’t the least bit interested in hiring me when there were people she felt were equally qualified and who she wouldn’t have to do any special paperwork for.  I tried to explain that I had an attorney who could help, but she thanked me for coming in and showed me the door.  I tried not to feel defeated; it was only my first interview and hopefully something else would come up soon.

When I got home, I called a couple of friends and invited them to meet me at Jeremy’s to hear some music and have supper.  When I got there, Leah and Cassandra already had a table and Charlie arrived soon after I did. 

“So seriously, Benedict Cumberbatch?” asked Charlie, “How the hell did you meet Benedict Cumberbatch?”

“In a pub.  We talked about motorcycles and I let him take my Ducati for a spin.”

“You let someone touch your bike?” he asked.

“No, not someone.   Benedict Cumberbatch.”  Leah corrected.  “He was hardly going to steal it, was he?”

“That’s exactly what I said at the time.  Besides, you know that’s the way I look at the world.  I really do believe you get back what you put out there.  And even if it’s not about earning good karma, the risk is its own reward.  It’s important to do things you’re unsure or afraid of.  You never learn anything if you live in a bubble.”

“It seems to have worked out well enough this time,” said Cass, “but don’t you ever get kicked in the arse for it?”

“Sure.  But if I do three things that scare the hell out of me and get my ass kicked twice, I still might have something wonderful happen with the third thing.  It’s worth it.”  I said.  “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You could get knocked out and half drowned while surfing.” said Jem, dropping off a round of drinks.

“I’m scared of sharks Jem, not surfing.  And anyway, I still managed to get myself on a plane to New Orleans, and that was a great trip.” I said with a huge smile.

“So when do we get to meet him?” asked Leah.

“He’ll be back next week and he’s working close to home for a few months so, probably soon.  He wants to come hear me sing, so maybe here?  Or Jem and I could have a party.”

“Can we do fancy dress?  We could all come dressed as Sherlock.” said Charlie, an evil grin on his face.

“Oh fuck no.  Absolutely not, you lunatic.”  I answered, swatting him on the arm.

The rest of the night was a riot.  I sang a few songs and we had more drinks and laughed our heads off.  They all promised to put the word out that I was looking for work and I went to bed that night feeling happy and hopeful. 

When I got up, I ran out to get a newspaper and then went home and brewed a pot of coffee.  I was starting to get used to not leaping out of bed at the crack of dawn to go to work.  I took my coffee outside and settled into one of the loungers to read the paper.  I forced myself to slog through the bad news; war, politics, the general sad state of the world before I skipped ahead to the Culture section.  I was reading a book review when I turned the page and saw a picture of Ben.  He had his arm around the shoulders of a tall, slender woman who was obviously wearing his jacket as he shepherded her out of what looked like a bar.  She had her head down and he was shading his eyes from the camera flash with his hand.  I knew better than to believe what it looked like at first glance, but even so, my heart started thumping in my chest.  I couldn’t stop myself reading the story.

_‘Cumberbatch, currently filming a movie in Caracas, is seen here leaving a local hot spot with his co-star, Ella Gayle. The pair left in a taxi and were later seen entering their hotel together.  The British superstar was recently photographed in London, shopping for baby clothes with his rumoured girlfriend but appears to have moved on.’_

I dropped the paper as though it were on fire.  I knew it wasn’t true, that there had to be an innocent explanation.  I glanced at my watch and calculated the time difference between London and Caracas.  It was just after 10 o’clock here, so it was 4:30 in the morning there.  ‘Right,’ I thought, ‘that gives me time to calm down and stop thinking nonsense.’

I heard the door open and Jem came outside with a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Good morning, Maple Leaf.”

“I’m glad you’re up.” I said, passing him the paper.  “Tell me I’m overreacting.”

He was quiet for a minute as he read the article.

“You’re overreacting.”

“Now say it like you mean it.”

“Ring him.”

“It’s the middle of the night there.  I’d sound like a complete hysteric.  I’d be acting like a complete hysteric.  It’s not what it looks like, it can’t be.”

“It’s just a picture Kai.  Look what they printed after you were seen in that baby shop.  That was complete bullshit and this is too.”

“I know.  He wouldn’t cheat.  He just wouldn’t.  He’s not like that.”

Jem sat down on the end of my chair, facing me.

“You have good instincts, trust them.”

“I’m trying, but up ‘til now, I’ve only had to see pictures of myself or of us together and I’ve known the truth, known the real story behind them.  This is different.  I think I’m going to be sick.”

“No you’re not.  You’re going to take a deep breath and relax.  There’s no way he’d do this and you know it.  Give me your cup and I’ll get you another coffee.  Then I’ll come back and we’ll talk about it until you come to your senses, O.K?”

I passed him my cup and he went inside.  I ran my hands through my hair and tried to swallow the lump in my throat, telling myself that Ben would never, ever hurt me this way.  It simply wasn’t something he was capable of.  I squeezed my eyes shut as hot tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Stop it, right now,” said Jem as he sat down, putting my cup on the table, “you know I can’t take it when you cry.”

“Sorry Jem, I forgot for a minute that this was about you.” I said.

He grinned at me.

“When you talk to Ben and he tells you what actually happened, you’re going to feel really stupid.  Mark my words.”

“I know you’re right.  I know I’m right.  But that’s my brain talking and it has zero control over my emotions.”

Jem’s mobile rang and he glanced at the call display.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” he said.

I reached for my coffee and listened to Jem talking.

“Hello?  Uh huh.  Uh huh.  O.K.  And then?  You’re sure?  Yeah, I think you’d better.  Just a minute.  Here,” he said, holding his phone out to me, “it’s Ben.”

He shoved his phone at me and I took it as he went back inside the house.

“Ben?”

“Kai, it wasn’t what it looked like at all.” His voice was early morning hoarse, “The night before last, a bunch of us went out for drinks and Ella got completely, stupidly shit-faced drunk.  I found her throwing up all over herself in the hall outside the loo so I gave her my jacket, bundled her into a cab and got her back to the hotel. ”

“Thank fuck.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I doubted you for even a second.”

“Why didn’t you just call me?”

“Because it’s the middle of the night there.  I didn’t want to wake you.”

“What the hell, Kai?  You were in fits because you read a story saying I was screwing my co-star, but you didn’t want to wake me?”

“I was trying to be rational.  Part of me, most of me, was sure it wasn’t true and that part of me didn’t want to wake you up.  The tiny, crazy person inside me that was freaking out wanted to call you and ask what was going on.”

“I was up, I have an early call.  More to the point, when have you ever held anything back?  Every single conversation I’ve ever had with you has made me believe I could expect honesty from you and if you’re honestly wondering if I’m fucking somebody besides you, I’d have thought you’d ask me.  You said you trusted me.” 

I heard the indignation in his voice; sharp, bitter.

“I do trust you.  I’ve put my body, heart and soul in your hands, and I’ve trusted you to take care of them.  I told Jeremy that you weren’t capable of cheating on me and I believed it when I said it.”

“No, you obviously didn’t.  Not completely.”

“Well, yes, O.K.  I mostly believed it. It’s easy when I’m with you, when I can look into your eyes and know what you’re feeling; it’s not so easy when you’re thousands of miles away.  I’ve never claimed to be perfect.  I’m human, Ben, and that means that there are times when I’m running on emotion instead of rationality.  If we didn’t let our hearts lead sometimes, you and I wouldn’t even be together, because let’s face it, this relationship hasn’t exactly been based on logic, has it?  Love isn’t logical.”

I could hear his breathing through the phone, could picture the line between his brows as he frowned, thinking about what I’d said.

“No, by definition, love isn’t logical.  Neither is anger.  I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with you.”

“And I should know better than to believe stories about you in newspapers.  You don’t have to apologize for being angry.  I doubted you.  Maybe it was only for a minute, but I still did and you're allowed to be upset about that. I made you promise from the very beginning that you’d never make assumptions about me, that you’d always ask if you wanted to know something.  You have the right to expect the same in return.” 

“I need you to try to understand Kai that this is why I take my privacy so seriously; because there’s nothing worse for me than when someone I care about gets hurt, when I can’t protect someone I love.  You have to try to imagine what it’s like dealing with this shit from my side.” 

He was trying to be calm, but I could tell he was still furious with me.

“I am trying; I’ve been trying since the first time we went out in public together.  But I don’t think you can know what it’s like to be on my side of this either.  You think you can, but you can’t because you’re the famous one and you’ve had time to get used to this and I’m me and I haven’t.  When we’re alone with each other or with your friends who’ve known you forever, everything feels normal; we’re just two normal people.  But when we’re out together or when someone asks me about you, I’ve started to second guess everything.  Ever since they printed that picture of me flipping off that photographer, I think about every move before I make it, about every word before I say it, because I don’t want to give away anything about your life that should only be your business.  I’m worried every time I open my mouth that I’m going to say something that someone could use against you or do something that reflects badly on you.  I don’t want to do anything that could hurt you, because I love you so much that if I picture my life without you, I can’t even breathe.  You keep saying that you’re trying to protect me, but for Christ’s sake, try to think for a minute what it’s like for me, trying to protect you.”

“Oh Kai, the last thing in the world I want is to make you doubt yourself.” Ben said quietly. “The first day we met, when you talked about how you’d changed your life, about how you weren’t willing to settle for letting your life just happen, I think I fell in love with you right then.  I admire your strength and the way you approach the world.  I love that you say things without thinking, because it’s honest and it’s real and sometimes it’s funny as hell.  I don’t want being with me to change who you are, Kai.  I love who you are.”

“What if I say something stupid?  What if I blurt out something personal to the wrong person?  I don’t want to put you in the position of having to explain or apologize for something I’ve said or done.  If you were a plumber or…or, a gardener, none of this would matter, but everything about your life is on a grander scale.  The repercussions of my putting a foot wrong are enormous.”

“Let me worry about the repercussions of loving a woman who tells the truth and doesn’t always think before she speaks.  You just be you.”

“Even if that means phoning you in the middle of the night to shout at you because I’ve lost my mind?”

“Especially then.  If you ever have a moment of doubt, about yourself or me, tell me.  Promise me.”

“Alright, I promise to tell you if I’m losing my mind; to wake you at 4 o’clock in the morning if I need to talk to you.”

“I know how complicated this all seems, but I love you Kai.  It’s as simple as that.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

“See that you do.  I have to go to work, Louise knocked at my door ages ago.  I’ll call you later, O.K?”

I hung up and went inside.  I passed Jeremy his phone.

“You called him.” I said.

“I texted him, yes.  I said you’d seen that picture and that he needed to call you.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time.”

“I didn’t know you had his number.”

“Since that night he showed up here and stayed to supper.  We chat sometimes.”

“I assumed you used my phone to call him when I got hurt surfing.”

“No, mine.”

“Why didn’t either of you tell me you were talking?”

“Because you would have wanted to know if we were talking about you.”

“Were you?”

“Sometimes.  And sometimes we talk about music or movies or politics or any of the thousand other things that have nothing to do with you.” He grinned cheekily.

“I’m glad you’re friends.”

“You get everything sorted then?”

“Yes, for now.  I have a feeling that he’ll have more to say when he gets home.  I have some thinking to do.  I’m going out on my bike to clear my head.  If I decide to stay somewhere on the road, I’ll call you.”

I threw a few things in my pack, slung it over my shoulders and hit the road.  As I rode, I thought about Ben.  We had talked again and again about honesty and trust and I had let one picture shake my confidence in him.  I was completely unnerved that that was all it had taken and I was disgusted with myself.  I had believed I was stronger and more level headed than that.

I eventually ended up in Oxford and found a pub right on the river.  I ordered a glass of cider and took a table outside where I could sit and think.  I tuned out the chatter from the other tables and stared at the water, trying to make sense of our situation.  What I’d told Ben was true; emotions, by definition aren’t rational.  I could look at that picture and tell myself that there was an obvious and harmless explanation, but it didn’t stop what I’d felt at the prospect of losing him.  All at once, I realized why I’d had such a strong and visceral reaction.  The picture wasn’t the real reason I’d gotten so bent out of shape, it was just the catalyst.  I was reacting to what I’d been feeling since I’d had to consider that I might have to leave Ben and go back to Canada.  It was fear. 

Over the last few years I had determinedly faced my fears head-on, confronted what I was afraid of but how the hell was I supposed to do that in this situation?  This wasn’t like making the leap to move to London or going surfing in California or dumping Daniel and taking the reins of my own life.  I wasn’t going to choose to go back to Canada just to see if I could stand to be away from Ben; that would be idiotic.  A second later, the answer popped into my head, and I was stunned by its simplicity.  I got my phone out and sent a text to Jeremy, telling him I was feeling better and I’d be home in a couple of hours, then I paid for my drink and got back on the road, this time just enjoying being on my bike.

Ben called that night while I was lying on my bed reading.  I told him about my road trip and how I thought my response to seeing that picture wasn’t actually about the picture at all, but rather the fear I’d already been feeling but not dealing with.

“So, here’s the thing – I’m not about to leave you just to see if I can, to see if I can face the prospect of not having you in my life.”

“I should fucking hope not.  Jesus, don’t even talk about that as though it were actually an option.”

“It’s not; it doesn’t have to be, because here’s the best part:  I have to stay with you.  The only way to get over fear is to grab it by the throat and wrestle it to the ground and to do that, I have to be with you so that I’m knocking the problem on the head every single day.”

“I can’t decide if you’re a genius or if you’re completely barmy.”

“It doesn’t matter, because either way, that’s my decision.  You’re stuck with me.”

“I see,” he said, laughing, “And do I not get any say in the matter?”

“No, none.  I’ve made up my mind and you’ll just have to live with it, Cumberbatch.”

“Well Macbeth, it sounds perfectly awful, but I suppose I’ll just have to make the best of it.”

“Stiff upper lip and all that.  I’m sure you’ll manage.”

“My flight gets in Monday morning at 11 o’clock.  Why don’t you pick me up and I’ll see if I can stand it.”

“I’ll see you then.”

I got off the bed and packed a bag, planning to spend the weekend at Ben’s making things nice for when he got home.  In the morning, I put my things in his car, stopped on the way to do a bit of shopping and was at his flat by noon.  I snooped around in the cupboards until I found cleaning supplies and I spent the afternoon scrubbing until everything sparkled.  I had brought flowers and I put an arrangement of huge yellow and orange sunflowers on the dining table and a second of big, fat, pink peonies from my own garden on the coffee table.  I took a shower, poured a glass of wine and sat on the sofa with my laptop. 

Ever since Ben had said that he’d give me the money to start my own business, I’d been seriously thinking of taking him up on the offer.  I’d dreamed of being my own boss, of being able to pick and choose my own clients and jobs, of building a future for myself.   Even though they were very different endeavours, I’d talked to Jeremy about how he’d gone about starting his restaurant.   He’d given me some good advice, starting with how to go about writing up a business plan and a budget, so I’d been working on those over the last week.  I’d also written a contract for Ben to sign.  I’d decided that if this was the direction I was going in, I’d only take his money if he’d agree that it was a loan, not a gift.

On Sunday, I met some friends for a late lunch and then went back to the flat to finish getting things ready for Ben’s arrival home, sprucing up the terrace and making a pot of soup and a batch of Bolognese sauce.  I was fidgety with excitement and couldn’t relax, so I gave up trying and went for a long run.  When I got back, I had a soak in the tub, and was able to settle down enough to watch some T.V. and finally, to sleep.

I was standing on the pavement, leaning on the car when I saw him through the glass doors, walking toward me, pushing a luggage cart.  His clothes were rumpled from the flight, his hair flat and messy and that god awful beard bushier than ever.  He was gorgeous.  I pushed off from the car and walked toward him.  As the doors opened, our eyes met and his face crinkled into a joyful smile and my heart raced. 

“Welcome home.” I said.

“Hello beautiful girl.”

 “Put your things in the car and let’s get you home.”

I popped the lid on the boot and helped him load his bags.  As he put the last one in, he turned, took my face in his hands and kissed me, a gentle peck on the mouth.

“Give me the keys, I’m driving.” He said.

“You’ve been home for less than a minute and you’re already ordering me about.” I teased, dangling the key ring from my finger.

He took the keys, the tip of his finger caressing my palm and he said, “You’ve not seen anything yet.  I’ve brought you a present.”

“Have you?  What is it?”

“It’s a surprise, for later.  Get in the car.”

 I smiled, knowing I had my own surprise waiting for him at home. 

“As you wish.” I said.

We got back to his flat and I helped him carry his bags up.  He kicked his shoes off and walked into the kitchen.

“I like the sunflowers, they’re very cheerful.  It looks great in here, but you didn’t have to clean, I have a service that comes in when I’m here.”

“I wanted it to be nice when you got back, to feel like home.  Anyway, I enjoyed it.  I felt very domestic.”

“Should I let my cleaner go then?”

“Oh hell no.  Between your place and my own, I’ve spent quite enough time cleaning toilets.  Now, are you hungry, tired?  What do you need?”

“I’m on Venezuela time, so it’s early morning for me.  I could use a coffee and a shower.”

“Coffee first,” I said, reaching for the kettle, “and you can tell me what your schedule is going to look like for the next while.”

He sat at the table while I made the coffee and told me when and where he’d be shooting.  He’d agreed to do a smaller, supporting role as a favour to the screenwriter, an old friend from LAMBDA.  The whole film was being shot in the U.K. so at most, he’d only be away a couple of days at a time and I could go with him if I wasn’t working.

I carried the coffee over to the table and passed him a cup.

“I don’t start shooting for another ten days and I’ll be done by the beginning of October.  Then I have a week or so before starting rehearsals for the play.  That’s going to be five days a week, sometimes more and they’re long days, but I’ll be home every night.  We rehearse for a month and the run is November 11th to December 30th.  Then I’m off until mid-January.”

“Ten days?  You have ten days off?”

“Sort of.  I have to learn the script and there are always interviews and things to do.  There’s also Tom’s premiere later this month.  Still, we’ll have plenty of time to find out if we can stand to be around each other for more than a couple of days at a time.” He smiled.

“And I can always go home for a bit if you need time by yourself.” 

“I get more than enough time to myself when I’m out of the country.  I want you here, with me.”

“Good.  That’s what I want too.  But I’m serious, Ben.  If you need space or if you want to go out with your friends or whatever else comes up – just tell me.”

“I will.” He said and set his cup down on the table.  “And now, I’d like to clean my teeth and have a shower.”

“I’ll help you carry your things upstairs.”

We took his bags up to the bedroom.

“Just chuck them in the closet, I’ll unpack later.” He said, unzipping a suitcase and pulling out a smaller bag which he carried to the bathroom.

I followed him across the room.  He opened the door and turned on the light.

“Why is there a chair in here?” he asked.

“You need somewhere to sit while I remove that thing from your face.”

He looked over his shoulder at me.

“You’re not wasting any time.”

I went to him, and he turned to face me.  I put my arms around his slim waist and looked up at him.

“I realize you’ve probably been enjoying not having to shave every day, but I miss your face.   And since the moment I first thought about doing this, I haven’t been able to stop.”

“That’s good enough for me.” He kissed me, slow and soft and I smiled under his lips as his beard tickled my face for the last time.

I unbuttoned his shirt, slid it off him and laid it on the counter.

“Sit down.  I’m going to trim most of the hair before you get in the shower, so it’ll be easier to shave.”

He sat and I laid a towel across his shoulders then reached for the scissors.

“Where did you find those?”

“I brought them from home.  Don’t worry; they’re very sharp.  I cut my own hair with them.”

“Don’t worry, they’re very sharp.”  He repeated.  “You do realize that doesn’t actually sound reassuring?”

“If they were dull, they’d pull and tear the hair and that would hurt.  These I sharpened myself, so they’ll cut cleanly.  Stop being such a baby.  I’m much more likely to cut you with the actual razor.”

“Jesus.”  He groused.

“Hold still.”

I started at the side of his face and trimmed his beard as close to his skin as I could, working my way down his cheek.  I did the same on the other side, then I put my hand under his chin and tilted his head up, snipping carefully under his jaw and over his neck.  Finally, I cleaned his upper lip and his chin.  I gathered the towel together to keep the hairs from falling on the floor and stood back.

“That’s so much better already.” I said.

He turned to look at himself in the mirror.

“That doesn’t look half bad.  Any chance I can –“

“No.” I interrupted.  “No chance at all that you can keep it like this.  I’m going to shave you as smooth as the day you were born.  Now go have your shower.”

“And now who’s ordering whom about?” he grinned.

I stepped forward and placed my hand under his chin, lifting until he was looking me in the eye.

“I am, if you think you can handle it.” I said, mimicking the cold voice he used with me. 

One eyebrow rose and his eyes narrowed as he looked at me, curious, intrigued.  He nodded.

“O.K.” he said, smiling.

“Get in the shower.  Don’t make me tell you again.”

“Alright.  I’m going.”

He stood, reaching for his belt and I turned, taking his shirt from the counter and leaving the room.  While he showered, I ran downstairs and wet a face towel, throwing it into the clothes dryer to heat up.  I went back upstairs and undressed, then put Ben’s shirt on, rolling the sleeves up.  Barefoot, I ran back downstairs and waited until I heard him shut the water off before I took the towel from the dryer.  When I got back, he was stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist.

“Sit down.”  I said, turning the hot water tap on.

He sat and I tilted his head back once again, kissing him softly.

“Good boy.  Now keep your head back.” I said and unrolled the towel, wrapping it around his face. 

He groaned as the hot, damp cloth made contact with his skin, but he didn’t move.  I smiled to myself as I reached for the shaving tools.  I laid a clean towel on the counter, and filling a ceramic mug with hot water, I set the badger brush in it to soak.  I twisted the lid from the shaving soap, the aroma of sandalwood filling the air.  I’d smelled every single one in the shop before settling on this; it was fairly intense, musky and sharp but it didn’t make me sneeze which would come in handy once I actually had the razor in my hand.  I’d taken two new razors from the drawer and I put them on the towel next to the cup the brush was soaking in.  I unwound the towel from his face.  His skin was pink from the heat of it. I pulled my hair back into a low ponytail and reached for the brush.

“I like my shirt on you,” he said, reaching out to run his fingers under the fabric where it sat against my thigh, “but it looks a bit snug across the front.”

I looked at him.  Trailing my fingers down his chest I caught his nipple lightly between my fingernails.

“Oh Ben,” I said, shaking my head, “I think I need to clarify something for you before we continue.  When I am in charge, I have rules and I expect you to follow them.  Rule number one:  you’re not to speak unless it’s to say ‘yes’, ‘no’, or ‘squid’.  You can choose another safe word later, but for now, we’ll use mine.  Number two: you will not touch me until and unless I tell you to.  I’m going to have a razor in my hand, so this is for your own safety.  Number three: if you break a rule, there will be consequences.  Do you understand?”

He stared at me and I was pleased to see that his mouth had actually fallen open.  He looked stunned.

“Yes, I understand.”

I pinched his nipple between my fingernails, just hard enough to be a warning and he jumped.

“Ben, ‘yes’, ‘no’ or ‘squid’, that’s all.  Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Very good.” I said and I leaned over and kissed him lightly, to show him he’d done well.

I reached for the brush and the bowl of soap.  I slowly swirled the brush against the hard disc, working the lather into the bristles as the man at Taylor’s had shown me.  He’d also told me that since we were starting with more than just morning stubble, we’d probably have to do the entire process twice.  When I had the brush full and the lather the right texture, I started to apply it to Ben’s face.  I held his chin in my hand so I could turn him where I needed him to be.  I moved the brush in slow circles, coating the hairs so they’d stand up and I could get a closer shave.  I listened to the soft sound of the badger bristles as they pressed against his skin, could just catch a whiff of his verbena soap under the heavier sandalwood and I felt a prickle of excitement down my spine as I returned the brush to the mug of water and reached for the razor.

I pushed Ben’s legs apart with my knee and stepped closer, his right leg between mine, his hands resting on his thighs.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yes.” He answered quietly.

“Head back.” I said as I tilted his face to the side with my hand.  I took a deep breath and slid the razor from his sideburn to his jaw, following the smooth plane of his cheek.  I rinsed the blades and made another pass, feeling my nipples hardening, brushing against the fabric of his shirt as I moved.   I worked slowly, enjoying what I was feeling as I turned his face from side to side to get the angles I needed.  The sound of the razor scraping against his skin was erotic as hell, as was the sound of his breathing, slightly rapid.  I pressed my fingers against the pulse point on his carotid, could feel his heart rate was elevated, from nerves or pleasure, or both.  I had finished both cheeks but they were the easy part.  I rinsed the razor again and moved under his chin, carefully pulling the blades up over his Adam’s apple, the sides of his throat, cleaning the hairs and lather from his long neck.  I shaved his chin, being especially careful around his lower lip.  I rinsed the razor one more time.

“Tighten your upper lip for me Ben.”

He did as I had told him and I shaved under his nose, short, gentle strokes so I wouldn’t cut his sharply angled upper lip.  I stood back and looked at him, remnants of lather still adhering to his skin.

“You did very well.  Now I’m going to do the whole thing again so you’re completely smooth.”

I poured out the water from the mug and refilled it so the brush would get warm.  I turned to Ben, glancing at his lap, gratified to see that he was hard under the towel still around his hips.

“Unbutton my shirt.”  I said.

He stood and reached for me.  I grabbed his towel in my left hand and yanked it free at the same time as I brought my right down in an open slap against the side of his thigh.  He jerked, more from the sound it made than from pain, because I’d not hit him particularly hard.

“Did I tell you to stand?” I snarled.

“No.” He was glaring at me and I held his gaze, wondering for a second if I might have pushed him too far.

“Sit down and unbutton my shirt.” I ordered.

He sat immediately and reached for my buttons.  I smiled.  When my shirt was open, I stepped between his legs.

“Touch my breasts.” I said.

His big hands came up to caress me, his fingers warm on my skin.  He cupped me, sliding his thumbs over my nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

“Suck them Ben, put your mouth on me.”

He leaned into me, holding eye contact as his lips slid onto my nipple, pulling, his tongue rough on the sensitive nubs.  I drew him closer, threading my fingers into his hair, still damp from the shower.  He moved to the other side, sucking, sliding my hard nipple along his lips while I watched him.  He raised his eyebrow, asking my permission.

“Do you want to use your teeth?”

“Yes.” He answered, his voice raspy.

“Do it.  Put your fingers inside me and bite my nipples.”

He sighed as his teeth came down on my skin, his hand moving between my legs.  I groaned as his fingers slid into my wetness, stroking inside my lower lips as he nipped at me, scraping his front teeth down the hard length of my nipples, first one then the other as his fingers sawed at me.  I tilted my hips and he moved his hand to push one long finger inside me while he swept his thumb over my clitoris.  I pulled him tighter to me, my fingernails lightly grazing his scalp as his finger moved inside me.  He pushed a second finger into me and turned his hand, curling his fingers forward.

“Stop.” I ordered.

He froze.

“Not yet, I’m not finished with you.  Put your hands behind your back.”

He did as I’d told him, leaning back with his arms behind him.  I picked up the shaving brush and re-lathered his face, using the time to calm myself down.  I dropped the brush into the cup and moved back to him.  I reached down, idly stroking his hard cock.  I wrapped my fingers as far around him as I could, sliding up and down his length, relishing the feeling of him in my hand.  I bent forward, my lips next to his ear.

“Do you want me to suck you?”

“Yes, Kai.” His voice low, gravelly.

I immediately let go of him.

“Oh no, and you were so close, too.  I didn’t tell you could say my name.”

His head dropped back and he groaned in frustration.  I chuckled.

“You’ve been so good up ‘til now, I’m going to let you off with a warning.  But I’m not going to suck you.  I’m not going to run my tongue over you or take you deep into my throat or let you come in my mouth.”  I smiled as his cock twitched against his belly.

“You’re going to have to keep very still for this next part, or you’re going to get hurt.  Are we clear, Ben?”

“Yes.”

I stepped forward, pushing his legs together and straddling them.  I reached down, taking him in my hand and rubbing him against my slick folds, then guiding him inside me.  The head of his penis slipped into me and he moaned softly.  I carefully lowered myself onto him, taking deep breaths as his girth stretched me, watching his face as I moved to take him in.  I rose up, slid down, spreading my wetness down his length, adjusting to the fullness of him deep inside me as I came to rest on his lap with a sigh.  I lifted my feet and placed them on the rungs between the chair legs so I’d have better control and I moved my hips in slow circles.  He watched me, his eyes dark with lust and I stopped moving my hips, reaching for the razor.

“No.” he said, looking at my hand.

“No?” I smiled wickedly, “Are you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think I have no discipline?  That I’m going to lose control and cut you?”

He stared at me for a full thirty seconds.  Finally, he shook his head.

“No.” He admitted.

And I laughed.

“Then I’m going to continue, if you’re quite ready?”

“Yes.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“Well said.  I will reward you for this you know.”

“Yes.” He said, his tone leaving me with no doubt that he felt he’d earned it.

I shaved him for the second time, still being extremely careful, but able to go faster since most of his facial hair was already gone.  Occasionally as I drew the blades over his face, I’d move my hips on his lap, just enough to make him squirm and every time I leaned over to the sink to rinse the razor I’d tighten myself around him.  By the time I’d finished the last pass, he was sweating and I knew he was having trouble keeping still.  I’d never felt sexier or more powerful in my life.

I wetted a face cloth, wiped the last of the shaving cream from his face and threw the cloth on the counter.

“There you are,” I said, smiling. “I’ve missed you.”

I stroked his face, traced his lips with my fingers then bent to kiss him, pleased at the smoothness under my lips as I slid my tongue into his mouth, felt his meet mine.  I kissed him long and deeply, wanting him to understand what it meant to me that he’d given me this, trusted me to do it.  I leaned back, looked into his eyes.

“Alright Ben, anything you want, whatever you need; take it.” I said.

His arms wrapped around my waist and I felt the muscles in his thighs under my own as he stood, lifting me with him.  He carried me through the door to the bedroom and turned, shoving my back hard against the wall.  I had my arms around his neck, my face buried in his hair as he thrust himself into me with short, hard strokes, grunting as he slammed me against the wall.  He slowed, stopped, and leaned back to look at me.  He brought his hand up to my face, his thumb caressing my cheekbone.  He turned and walked to the bed, falling on top of me, kissing me hungrily as he twisted his hips, grinding his groin into me.  I cried out as his pelvic bone drove against mine and he rolled, pulling me on top of him.

“Finish what you started Kai, please.” He said softly.

“Tell me Ben, tell me what you want.”  After keeping him quiet so long, I needed to hear his voice.

“Ride me, make me come inside you.”

I gripped his hips between my knees and lifted myself, sliding up his length.  I held myself there, only the head of his cock inside me, then slowly swivelled my hips, smiling down at him.  I moved down, looking into his eyes as I felt him stretch me, pressing against the walls of my vagina.  I kept up this movement, pulling up until he was just barely inside me, then pushing down, taking him deep into myself, until he was moaning, his hands on the tops of my thighs clenching at me.  I reached for his hands, threading my fingers between his and bracing myself against him as I moved faster.  I rode him hard, pounding myself against him, our skin slapping together as he drove himself up to meet me.  I fell forward, my breasts pressed against his chest as I found his mouth, pushed my tongue between his lips.  He moved his hands to my ass, scraping his nails over my skin, urging me to go faster.  I caught his lip between my teeth, pulling as I stroked it with the tip of my tongue and he bucked hard against me.  I doubled my speed, both of us close now, groaning and crying out with pleasure.  I sat up, scraping my fingernails down his chest and stomach.

“Come for me Ben, I want to feel you come inside me.”

His head flew back, the hard cords of muscle standing out on his neck as he slammed himself up into me.

“Oh god, oh Kai, I’m coming.”

“I know my love, I can feel you.”

I slowed, squeezing him with my muscles until his spasms stopped.  He sat up, arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest.  He slid his silky cheek across mine, whispering in my ear.

“You didn’t come.”

“No.”

“I want you to.  This was your idea.”

“You know what I need.  Do it.”

He rolled us over, sliding off the bed and pulling me to him until my ass was at the edge of the bed.  He lifted my legs, placing them over his shoulders and kissed down my thigh to my centre.  He took a deep breath.

“I told you,” he said, “you smell like bergamot and sex.”

“I smell like you.  I’ll taste like you, like us.”

He smiled and bent his head, kissing my belly, then lower.  He covered me with his mouth, sucking gently then his tongue slipped between my labia.  I was soaking wet, could feel our combined fluids dripping out of me.  His tongue slid inside me, licking at me and he buried his face in me as my hips rose to him.  He wrapped his arms around my legs, brought a thumb down to stroke at my clit, circling hard as his tongue worked in and out and I reached for him, my hands gripping his forearms as I started to cry out.

“Ben, I’m close.”

He pressed his thumb harder against me, his tongue stabbing at me and I felt myself shatter into a thousand pieces, pulling him tight against me.

I fell back onto the bed, panting.  He rested his head on me until my breathing slowed, then he planted a kiss on my belly and stood, piling pillows on top of each other against the headboard and he sat back against them.  I crawled up between his legs, putting my head on his chest and he pulled the bedding over us.  We were quiet for a while, happy to be together, content.

“You constantly surprise me.” He said, his fingers twining in my hair.

“I wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

“Not much chance of that.  Who the hell was that, in the loo?”

“My alter ego.  When I first realized that was what I wanted when I thought about shaving you I was shocked.  Nearly as shocked as you were when I slapped your leg.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible.”

I grinned and kissed his chest.

“I wanted to know what it felt like for you, when you take control.  I wanted to feel what you feel when I give myself to you, when you have permission to do whatever you like.  I wasn’t sure you’d let me.”

“So, you’ve been thinking about this, this, whatever it is we’ve been doing?”

“Yes, and you may as well know that I’ve talked to Jem about it.”

“Oh Jesus, you didn’t?”

“Yes I did.  He’s my best friend, Ben, even if the two of you have been sneaking around behind my back, carrying on a secret friendship.”

“How much does he know?”

“Nothing too intimate,” I sat up, fumbling in the bedside drawer for the ashtray and cigarettes.  I lit one and passed him the pack.  “I was trying to figure out what was going on in my head, why I get so turned on when you’re like that.  And why you do.”

“And?  Have you come to any conclusions?” he asked, lighting his own cigarette.

“I think so.  In the beginning, taking control of my life was a good thing, it got me out of the rut I was in and I felt alive, aware, for the first time in years.  But Jem thinks that as time went on, I may have gone a little too far in the other direction, so afraid of falling back into those old patterns that I’m not willing to relax the reins a bit and see what happens.  So, aside from a rather unfortunate habit of not always thinking before I speak,” we grinned at each other, “I was examining every decision, thinking everything through a thousand times, weighing every option before I did anything.  Then I met you and things changed; I changed.  I had sex with you the day we met.  I got on a plane and flew to New Orleans when we’d only known each other for a week.  And although you said it first, I told you I loved you.  When we’re together, I feel safe.  To the point where now, at least sometimes, I actually want you to be in control, so I don’t have to be.  I can just be free to feel what I’m feeling instead of thinking so fucking much.”

“Jesus, you really have put some thought into this, haven’t you?”

“Yes.  Jem thought I needed to understand it so I could still feel like I was in control of it,” I said with a smile, “and he was probably right.  I think that’s part of the turn on, for us both.  It’s about knowing that I’ve given myself up to you, completely.  I’m giving you permission to do anything you need to do.  The truth is though, that even when you’d blindfolded me and tied me to the bed, I could have stopped you at any time.  I think that’s what does it for you.  You know that you’d stop in a second if I asked you to, but I haven’t, at least not yet.”

“I think you’re right about that.  When I tell you to do something and you do it, or when I know what I’m doing is hurting you and you don’t stop me, when you actually tell me to keep going, I’m fully aware of how much you’re trusting me.  That’s a very powerful thing, to feel that trust, your willingness to let me keep going, to see how far I can push you.  At the risk of sounding a complete prat, it makes me feel special.”

I smiled, stubbing my cigarette out in the ashtray.

“You are special, you prat.  I told you, I’ve never let anyone do to me the things I let you do.  I feel safe with you; I love you.  And it’s exhilarating and exciting and it’s also terrifying because it could all end tomorrow.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.  Even when I’m away from you, you’re all I think about.  My friends are bored to death of hearing about you because you’re all I talk about anymore.  Tom told me if he heard me say ‘Kai said’ one more time, he’d punch me in the face.”

I laughed and said, “That’s great.  Your friends whom I’ve not even met are already sick of me.  Well done, Ben.  But, I still don’t have my visa sorted.  It’s possible that neither of us will have any choice in what happens next.”

“Of course we will.  You’ll find another job or you’ll start your own business or, or, well, we’ll figure out something.  And once that’s settled, we’ll move on to the next thing.  We’ll talk about this living in London thing and start making some real plans for the future.  Together.”


	12. The Housing Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking is done, plans are made, sex is had.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 12 – The Housing Development

 

“Plans for the future,” he repeated, “Speaking of exhilarating and terrifying…”

“When I said ‘terrifying’ I meant the whole visa thing; that I might have to leave.  Tell me what you’re afraid of, Ben.”

“Well that, obviously.  But, talking about what comes next, what we each want from our lives, doesn’t that scare you?”

“Never mind me.  I want to know what scares you.”

“When we started this conversation a couple of weeks ago, it was because we’d started to realize that we may not want the same things.  What if the more we’re together, the more we talk about this, the more we discover we don’t want the same kind of life?”

“I want to be with you.  The rest is just details.”

“That’s a bit simplistic, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t, not anymore.  If I were to sit down and write a list of everything that I need to be happy, you’d be the top of the list.  If I have you, I’m willing to give up some of the things that are lower on the list.  We’re grown-ups Ben, we can compromise; we can negotiate.”

He grinned, “Negotiate?  Very romantic.”

I smiled back.

“I thought you liked that I’m rational, that I have common sense.”

“I do.  I like it, I appreciate it and I admire it.  I don’t think it’s romantic.”

“It can’t all be fat cupids and fluffy kittens Ben, sometimes a bitch just has to get mercenary.”

He cringed.

“I hate that word.”

“Yeah, I know,” I laughed, “I would have said ‘chick’, but I hate that word.”

He shook his head in disgust, but he was trying not to smile.

I turned and looked out the window at the dark sky and the rain streaking the windows.

“Is there anything you have to do today?” I asked.

“No, I try not to schedule anything much for when I first get home, in case I need time to shake the jet lag.”

“Let’s spend the day up here, in bed.  We can read and talk and watch stupid videos on YouTube.”

“What a lovely idea.”

“Would you like some tea or are you hungry?”

”Yes, to both.”

I hopped out of bed and wrapping myself in his robe, went downstairs to gather supplies.  I put the kettle on and poured the soup I’d made the day before into a pot to heat up.

“Do you have a tray somewhere?” I called up the stairs.

“Above the refrigerator.” He answered.

I dragged a chair over and climbed up, grabbing the plain wooden one from on top of the stack of trays in the cupboard.  I organized cups for the tea, milk and sugar, spoons and a couple of mugs for the soup, thinking bowls would be dangerous if we were eating in bed.  I filled the teapot and put it on the tray then while I waited for the soup to get hot, I got my laptop and ran back upstairs.

“Soup’s almost ready.  Here,” I said, passing him my laptop, “turn this on; I have something to show you.”

“You haven’t left the stove on, have you?  It’s just that, well…” he nodded in the direction of my hand, now completely healed.

“Shut up, I’m going back down right now.”

I went downstairs and poured the soup into the mugs, then carefully carried the tray up to the bedroom, setting it on the table next to him.  I climbed back onto the bed and leaned over him to open the file named ‘Business Plan’. 

“Get comfortable, I want you to see what I’ve been working on.” I turned to look at him over my shoulder, “Did you just smell my hair?”

“Yes I did,” he said with a bright smile, “but you weren’t supposed to notice.”

“Weirdo.”

He passed me a mug of soup, and picking up his own, started scrolling through the file.  Occasionally he’d stop reading and ask me a question, and a couple of times I had him add or change things to clarify what I’d written.  I was sitting back against the headboard, leaning on his shoulder and reading along with him when I felt his body go rigid.

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s a loan agreement.” I said.

“I can see that.  I meant, what’s the point of it?”

“I wanted you to know how seriously I’ve taken your offer, but it’s a lot of money and I’m not comfortable just taking it with no strings attached, so I wrote up a re-payment schedule and this agreement for us to sign.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose and set his cup down on the tray.

 “When I gave you this bracelet,” he said, tapping his finger on my wrist, “were there strings attached?”

“No, but that’s hardly the same thing.”

“When you gave me that first edition Faulkner for my birthday, were there strings attached?”

 “No, of course not, but…”

He interrupted me, “I offered to give you the money to start a business Kai.  I did not offer you a one-time only, low interest rate loan from the Bank of Ben.  I am sick to fucking death of having this money discussion with you.  Why does it have to be such an issue every goddamn time?”

Jesus, he was fearsome when he was angry and right now, he was absolutely livid.

“If Jeremy or my parents had offered me the money, I’d expect to pay them back.” I said reasonably, hoping to make him understand what I’d been thinking.  “The fact that it’s you offering doesn’t change how I feel about taking money from someone.  You called it pride the last time we talked about this and it’s true, I’m proud of my self-sufficiency.   Besides, that’s how I was raised; if you borrow money, you pay it back.”

“You are not borrowing the money from me; I’m giving it to you.  It’s a gift, like the bracelet, like the book.  Why are you having such a hard time wrapping your head around that?”  He dragged his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Because it’s _money_.  If I’d opened the box you’d put in my bag and there had been cash in it instead of the bracelet, it wouldn’t have meant the same thing.  You chose this specific thing for me,” I said, starting to get annoyed myself now, “you saw it and you thought of me.  It’s personal.  That’s not the same thing as giving me money.”

We stared at each other, the frown still firmly fixed on his face.

“It is and it isn’t.” he finally admitted. “No, it isn’t personal in the way you mean, but my intent is the same.  I went looking for a gift for you because I wanted you to know that you meant something to me.  When I found that bracelet, it made me think of you and I hoped you’d think of me when you wore it.”

“I do, and I never take it off.”

“When I said I’d give you the money, it wasn’t only because I want you to stay here.  I want you to be able to do something that you love; something that makes you happy and I want you to be able to sit back and look at what you’ve built and to know that I helped you to do it because I love you.  If somewhere out there was precisely the business that you wanted, I’d go and throw money at the owner until they gave it to me, lock, stock and barrel, then I’d hand you the keys and it would mean exactly the same thing to me as giving you that bracelet.”

I was looking into his eyes while I tried to digest what he’d said when I felt all my hesitation, my stubborn refusal to see his offer for what it was just, evaporate.

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“My god, I haven’t finally gotten through to you?”

“Yes, you have.  Alright Ben, I’ll take your money and I’ll remember every time I book a client or hire an employee or fill out a VAT form that it’s because of you.”

“No, not because of me, because of us.”

I rubbed my face with my hands, “Goddamnit, if this is how all our negotiations are going to play out, I’m going to be living in this flat in London for the rest of my life, with thirty-seven babies and not a dog or a garden to be seen.”

“You can have a dog if you want one, I like dogs.” He grinned.

“That’s very generous of you, but there’s no point in having one dog.  I’ll need at least three.”

“What do you need three dogs for?”

“Herding sheep.  Guarding chickens.”

“This is the first I’m hearing of sheep and chickens.”

“It won’t be the last.  You want to know what kind of life I dream of?  I picture a house where I can open the door and be outside.  Really outside, with dirt under my feet, not cement.  I want sheep and chickens and cows and horses and a whole pack of dogs.  I want a real garden so we can grow our own food and a huge kitchen where I can make jam and bake bread.  I want a couple of tough, dirty-faced kids with curly hair and gorgeous blue eyes, and grass stains on their knees from playing outside all day.  And you.  I want you.  If that’s really so far away from what you want, then I’m not sure what else there is to say.”

“That sounds awfully final.” He said quietly.

“It does, doesn’t it?” I sighed, “I didn’t mean to sound so inflexible, but I feel like I lost a chunk of time in my thirties and moving here was like hitting the reset button on my life.  I’ve made some huge changes, but the truth is I haven’t exactly been taking my life seriously.  I haven’t been making any grand plans.  Since that day when we talked about living in London, I’ve started to really think about what kind of life I want.  I know I said that everything on my list besides you was negotiable, but you deserve to know what I see when I envision my future; what else is on that list.  And I know you’ve been thinking about this too, but you never say anything specific.  Other than having children, what you see when you dream about your future is a complete mystery to me.”

“When I think about where I see myself in five or ten years, I’d hope that I’m still being challenged by the roles I’m being offered, that acting still gives me the same thrill, the same satisfaction.   I’d like to start producing films, funding projects that I think are important but that might not get made otherwise.  And for the past few years my life has been almost entirely about work.  It hasn’t stopped me wondering if I’d ever meet someone who would be more important to me than my career; if I’d ever find someone who I wanted to share my life with and who made me want to stay at home and start a family instead of flying all over the world at the drop of a hat.  Then I met you, and it’s all happened so fast, but you make me want to stay at home; you make me want a new kind of life.  What does frighten me though Kai is that sometimes I feel like I’ve known you forever and I can’t imagine my life without you in it, and then I think about how short a time we’ve actually been together and I wonder how well we can possibly know each other.” 

“If it didn’t frighten you at least a little bit, I’d think there was something wrong with you; that part of it is scary for me too.  Everything has happened so quickly with us, and most of our relationship has taken place on the phone.  It’s not the same as being in the same room, is it?  We’ve had these short, intense periods of time together and let’s be serious, large parts of them have been spent in bed, where we’re really, really compatible.” I grinned, “I’m certainly not complaining about that, but we can’t sustain a relationship on sex.”

“No, of course we can’t.  It’s not just the sex though, is it?  You’re right about how much time we’ve spent on the phone and I guess there is something to be said for that; for how much time we’ve spent talking.  You’re smart and tough, you’re funny as hell and probably the most honest person I’ve ever met.  And I’ve come to rely on you for your common sense approach to things when I get all wound up and stuck in my own head.  I do love you.”

“I’ve never doubted it from the first time you said it and you know I love you too.  The question is:  is loving each other enough?  Enough to start thinking about building a life together and the changes we’d both have to make and what that really means for each of us?”

“You’d have to get used to being in the public eye and to people taking photos while we’re grocery shopping.  I’d have to cut back on work, spend more time at home.  Are you willing to let me pay for things, like a house and sheep?  Am I willing to consider not living in London so you can have free range chickens and organic babies?”

“Exactly,” my heart was pounding so hard, I couldn’t even swallow, “All of those things, and more.  When do we start making decisions based on hope instead of fear?”

“What the fuck are we waiting for?  Move in with me, into the flat for now. We’ll get your visa figured out and then we can start to look for something else, for our house.”  He took my hand and turned it over, pointing at the word ‘Action’ tattooed on my wrist, “Let’s keep moving forward.”

“Jesus, this is really happening, isn’t it?” I whispered.

“Yeah, it is.  You should see your eyes right now,” he said, grinning like a madman, “they're so huge that you look like a lemur.”

“You ask me to move in with you and then you tell me I look like a monkey?  Charming.”

 “Lemurs are adorable.  There are worse things to be compared to.”

 “You otter know.”  I managed to say, before dissolving in a fit of giggles.  It wasn’t even funny, but I was feeling slightly unhinged from our conversation.  Ben was laughing too, probably more at my hysteria than at what I’d said.

“Come over here,” he said, “I want to kiss you.”

I moved over and sat on his lap, still giggling to myself.  He reached up and wiped the tears of laughter from under my eyes with his thumbs, grinning at me.  His hands stroked my cheeks as he pulled me closer, his lips first feathering lightly across mine, the pressure increasing as he tightened his grip on me.  His tongue pressed against my lip, pushing my mouth open when, completely without warning, I burst out laughing into his open mouth.

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” He muttered in mock disgust.

“Sorry,” I said, my hand clamped over my mouth, “I can’t help it…”

Over the sound of my laughter, I heard the muffled sound of a phone ringing.

“That’s mine.  Get off me, you lunatic.” He said, shoving me unceremoniously off his lap and getting out of bed to search for his mobile.

It had stopped ringing by the time he located it and he climbed back into bed and played the message.

_“Hullo Ben, it’s Mum.  Dad and I wanted to know if you might come up and spend a night or two with us, we’ve not seen you in ages.  Bring Kai if you like; maybe this week-end?”_

I’d stopped laughing.  Visiting his parents?  Trapped at their house? Not funny in the slightest.

“Are you free this week-end?” he asked innocently.

“Maybe.  I was going to have a party, so you could meet some of my friends.  I was thinking Saturday?”

“We could go up on Sunday.  It won’t be so bad; I’ll be there to protect you this time.”

“Fuck.”  I took a deep breath, “Yeah, alright.”

He called his Mum back and they hashed out the details.  We’d go up Sunday afternoon and spend two nights.  The thought of visiting them at their house made me more nervous than the idea of moving in with Ben.  When he hung up, I brought up the party again.

“So if Jem and I planned something for Saturday, you’d come meet my friends?  It won’t be too overwhelming; maybe eight or ten people at most?”

“Why don’t we do it here?  There’s more room than at Jeremy’s house.”

“You do understand that if we do it here, my friends will know where you live?”

“Where we live.”

“Oh.  Right.” That was going to take some getting used to.  “I’m going to need to talk to Jem.  Why don’t we go to the café tomorrow night?  You can finally hear me sing and we can tell him then.”

“I’d love to.  I’ve been looking forward to it for ages.”

“I mostly sing country stuff and that’s not really your thing, is it?  And please don’t set your expectations too high; it’s only a bit of fun.”

“That’s not what Jeremy says.  He says you’re very, very good.”

“He has to say that, he’s my best friend.”

I reached for my computer and sent an email, inviting a few close, trusted friends to come and meet Ben on Saturday.  I suggested he invite some of his friends as well, to take the pressure off.

“Maybe David and Elise?” I suggested, “And Oliver and his cranky wife?”

“It’s sweet of you to offer, but you don’t need to protect me from your friends.”

“That’s what you think.  Cass and Leah are going to spend the entire night interrogating you about Tom Hiddleston and Charlie has such admiration for your fashion sense that I’m going to have to watch him the whole time to make sure he’s not sneaking up here to try your clothes on.”

“You’re joking.” He said, “Aren’t you?”

“Now who looks like a lemur?” I asked, laughing.  “I’m exaggerating.  Probably.  But that’s why it might be a good idea to have a few people here who know you’re just a regular person.  You know, underneath all the glamour.”

He rolled his eyes at me, “God.  Alright, I’ll call around later and see who’s free.”

“Can we try that kissing thing again?  If I promise not to laugh down your throat this time?”

He turned and lay on his side, pulling me tight against him, his hand pressed into the small of my back.  As we kissed, I thought about everything we’d said to each other today, the huge plans we were making and what it all meant.  Knowing he loved me was not the same thing as knowing that he actually wanted us to try to make a life together.  It made it all, the last few months, seem real, not just the crazy, unbelievable fairy tale that it had been so far.  I’d never felt more loved, more sure of anything than I did at that moment.  I pulled back, looking into his eyes, wondering if he felt it too.

“I know.” He said, the corners of his eyes creasing with a smile.

“Stop reading my mind.” I said, “It’s creepy.”

He laughed, but immediately got serious again.

“This is the most important day of our lives, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said, “I think it is.  So far.”

He rolled me onto my back, moving on top of me, his lips soft and gentle on my mouth.  I met his tongue with mine as I wrapped my legs around his, wanting to be as close to him as I could.  We kissed for ages, taking our time, maybe for the first time not feeling the sense of urgency, the helplessness of impending separation caused by his frequent absences.

His hand went to the knot that held his robe closed around me, pulling it loose and moving inside to lightly stroke along my ribs, under my breast.  I slid my arms out of the sleeves, leaving myself naked beneath him.

“Ben,” I sighed with pleasure as we connected, skin to skin, the heat of him against me igniting a fire deep in my belly. 

His lips were on my neck, kissing and tonguing down to my shoulder and I felt him suck my flesh into his mouth, leaving his mark on me. I arched my back, raising myself to him as he cupped my breast, his lips sliding across my skin to my nipple, already hard from his touch.  I stroked his hair as his mouth enveloped me, his tongue wrapping around the pebbled bud and he moaned softly as I moved my hips against him, his penis hardening against my thigh.

“Kai, my beautiful girl, do you really have any idea how you make me feel?”

I moved my hands down his back, pulling him to me, needing his mouth on mine, to have him inside me.

“Yes,” I breathed against his lips, “I know.” 

He pressed against me as I lifted myself to him, his rigid flesh pushing at my centre.  I opened to him, a long, shuddering breath leaving me as he slid smoothly into my heat, his body warm and firm against my softness.   We lay still, absorbing the sensations, the feeling of being perfectly connected.  Our mouths tasting each other, nerves alight with electricity, we started to move together.  Wanting to take his time, wanting to give me what I needed, he pulled back until he was barely inside me, then he buried himself deeply, entering me over and over until I was moaning into his mouth.  He moved faster then, his arms going under my back, his hands coming up to grip the tops of my shoulders, keeping us tight together as he drove himself into me, his breath hot as he groaned his pleasure into the crook of my neck.  He bore down, his hips circling, his pelvic bone pressing hard against my clitoris until I was aware of nothing but him, the weight of him, the heat of him, his voice in my ear as he came, crying my name.  My fingers dug into his back and I barely recognized the sounds I was making as my own voice; I was lost in him as wave after wave of release swept over me, overwhelmed me.

“It’s alright my love, I’m here.  Let it out.”  He raised himself on one elbow, gently wiping the tears from my face.

I was crying; deep, gut-wrenching sobs from my core.  He gathered me in his arms, held me until I was cried out; spent by the power of it.  I clung to him until my breathing started to return to normal, the tension finally easing from my muscles. 

“Tell me.” He said, not a demand, but wanting to understand.

“It was perfect.  You were perfect.  This whole day, it’s been…too much happiness.  I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for so long, afraid to let myself be too happy until I knew for sure that it was the same for you.”

“I’ve always told you exactly how I felt.”

“I know.  It’s not your fault.   I think I just couldn’t let myself give in to what I was feeling, to admit how much I need you.  Oh god, that sounds awful.”

“No it doesn’t.  I know exactly what you mean.  At first, I wanted you.  I wanted to know all about you, I wanted to hear your voice, the sound of your laughter; I wanted to learn how your body moved with mine.  Then I loved you.  I loved the way you challenged me, how you never let me get away with easy answers and how I caught myself smiling for no reason except that I was thinking about you and I loved how I felt when I was with you.  But now, I need you.  If I lost you, it would destroy me.”

“That’s what I wanted to say.  Those are all the things I wanted to tell you, all the things I wanted you to know I was feeling.  I just had to have a bit of a cry first.”

He chuckled, “A bit of a cry?”

“I may have gotten a little carried away.” I admitted, running my fingers over his smooth cheek, “I should write down all the amazing things you say to me.  I could make a fortune if I wrote a book, ‘How to Make a Woman Fall in Love with You, the Benedict Cumberbatch Method’.

“I don’t know that it would work on just any woman,” he said, kissing the end of my nose, “I’ve tailored my approach directly for you.”

“It’s been extremely effective.   Well done, you.”

“Thank you, but I can’t take all the credit.  You made it easy.  All I had to do was fall in love with you and the rest just sort of took care of itself.”

“See?  That’s exactly the kind of thing I was talking about.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon in bed.  We talked about houses, Ben wanting to know more about what kind of property I was interested in.  We spent hours looking at pictures on the internet, laughing at pink carpeting and ghastly art work and me trying to not have a heart attack at the prices of some of the places he was looking at.  Ben got quite excited over one house, a gorgeous listed farm house on several acres, with a barn and stables and two converted outbuildings for ‘staff’.  It was old; really old, with the original beams exposed in most of the rooms and tons of stonework.

“Oxfordshire is very pretty and this says the house is less than an hour to London or Heathrow by car.”  He clicked on the map below the description, “And look, it’s also fairly close to my parents.”

“I do love the kitchen, but that house is huge.  What do we need with six bedrooms?”

“People come to stay when you live in the country.  And you can put children in bedrooms.”

“Yes, you can.” I agreed with a laugh.

“Should I email the estate agent?  We could go see it on the way back from Mum and Dad’s.”

A part of me wanted to tell him to slow down, that there was still so much that was unresolved – my visa and what I was going to do about work or opening my own business in particular – but I was feeling buoyant, inspired by his enthusiasm, so I agreed.

“Go on then.  I’m going to find my phone.  I want to talk to Jem about what I’m going to sing tomorrow.”

Barefoot, I went downstairs and pulled my phone from my bag.

“Maple Leaf, how are you?  How’s Ben?”

“We’re both great and we have lots to tell you.  We’re coming to your place tomorrow night.  Have you had a chance to figure out the chording for that Civil Wars’ song I asked you to learn?”

“Yeah, it’s solid.  I’m not singing the second verse though, right, just the harmony?”

“That was my plan.”

“I wish we’d had time to practice the harmony, but as long as you stick fairly close to the original, I should be able to follow.  Do you know what else you’re going to do?”

“I think so.”  I named another song I was considering and that Jem knew well.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were a romantic.”

“People can change, can’t they?”

“Sure they can.  Especially under the influence of…outside forces.”

“You know what it’s like Jem, when you’re in love.  Every song you hear is fraught with meaning; they all feel like they were written just for you.”

He made retching sounds into the phone.

“Bugger off.  Do you want me to choose something to offset the mush?”

“I'm just messing with you.  Sing whatever you like.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I went upstairs and brushed my teeth, then got back into bed.  Ben was still on the real estate website, looking at houses.

“I’ve found another one you might want to look at.”

“Can I look later?  I’m feeling lazy.”

He saved the page and put the computer on the floor next to the bed.  I curled up on my side as he wrapped himself around me, and we went to sleep.

We were both awake early the next morning.  Ben made coffee while I went out for a paper.  After breakfast, we went for a run together for the first time.  We weren’t the best match as running partners.  He had to shorten his stride on the flat so I could keep up, but when I left the path and started running on the grass, through the woodlands, I was more than able to hold my own.  On uneven ground, he was just naturally more cautious than I was, running around obstacles that I’d simply leap over. 

Hearing his laboured breathing behind me as I charged up a hill, I turned, running backwards.

“Come on old man, you can do it.” I laughed.

He poured on a burst of speed and I turned around, sprinting for the top.

“You need to cut down on your smoking.” I shouted over my right shoulder.

“You need to stop being over-confident.” He said, swatting me on the ass as he passed me on my left.

I moved faster, determined to beat him to the top.  My calves were burning from the angle of the hill but I put my head down and breathed deep, focussed on speed and caught him, reaching out and giving him a shove to the side as I passed him.

“Cheater!” he shouted, trying to regain his footing.

I reached the top of the hill and started shadow boxing, bouncing on the balls of my feet and singing the ‘Rocky’ theme at the top of my lungs.

“I don’t know what you’re so proud of,” he panted, joining me at the top of the hill, “You fucking cheated.”

“All’s fair in love and war, Cumberbatch.” I answered, landing a punch on his upper arm.

“Ouch!  I had no idea you were so competitive.  I don’t know if I like it.”

“I had no idea you were such a sore loser.” I said and took off running downhill, giving myself a head start, “Race you home.”

In the end, his longer legs made the difference and he was sitting on the front stairs waiting for me when I got back to the flat.  Reclining actually, leaning back on his elbows, looking relaxed and extremely satisfied with himself.

“How long?” I panted.

“Ages.” He said.  “Been here for ages.” He said, drawing out the last word.

“Why’s your face still so red, you liar?”

“I’m embarrassed on your behalf, for how badly I beat you.”

“Oh please, you beat a girl; a girl who’s more than half a foot shorter than you.  And you feel like a big man?”

“Yup, I do.  I ran my ass off because I expected you to cheat.  I half expected to see you getting out of a cab as I rounded the corner.”

“That would be a bit extreme, even for me.” I laughed, “I’m not above tripping you, but a cab?”

“How was I to know?  This is the first time I’ve seen that side of you.  It was ugly.” He said, shaking his head ruefully.

“If you think that was bad, we should probably never play Scrabble.”

“There’s a board upstairs.”

“Or we could have a shower together instead.  Far less likely to come to blows.”

“Ooh, I don’t know.” He said, “I’m torn.”

In the end, we did both.  And I beat him two games out of three.

That evening, we were getting ready to go out.  I finished putting on my makeup and walked into the bedroom to get dressed.  Ben came out of his closet tucking a navy t-shirt into his jeans then pulling a soft grey sweater over top.

“You did that on purpose.” I said.

“What are you talking about?”

I pointed at the bed where I’d laid my clothes out.  Jeans, a grey t-shirt and a navy V-necked sweater.

“I swear,” he said, laughing, “I had no idea.”

“Go change, please?  I don’t have that many clothes here.”

He kept the sweater but switched to a plain white shirt.  We took a cab to Jem’s place and he took my hand as we walked to the door.  I was a bundle of nerves, not only because he was going to hear me sing for the first time, but because this was one of the few times we’d been out together in London.  In public.  I should have known Jem would think of that.  He saw us walk in and coming over to say hello, pointed out the table in the corner that he’d held for us.  While it was next to the window, it was furthest from the stage and that was the direction most people were looking, since the first group of musicians were already midway through the first set.  We sat down and took our coats off.  Jem brought drinks over and joined us.

“So, glad to be home Ben?”

“Absolutely.  It changes everything, having someone to come home to.”

I sat back and listened to them talk, enjoying seeing my two favourite boys together.  That they’d made a real connection through their phone calls was obvious, as they chatted away like old friends.

“It’s great that you’re going to be working here for a while, but I guess that means I’ll be seeing even less of you Maple Leaf.”

“Yeah, about that,” I said, as Ben reached for my hand, “Ben’s asked me to move in with him.”

Jeremy stared at us with saucer eyes.  Ben and I looked at each other.

“Lemur.”  We said together and cracked up.

“Wow.  That’s…Wow.  Congratulations you two, that’s fantastic news.”  He turned to catch the eye of one of the servers, “Katie, can you grab a bottle of bubbly?  The good stuff, not that shite we serve to the paying customers.  What does ‘lemur’ mean?” he asked, turning back to us.

“Big eyes, open mouth.” I explained, “Basically the same face I made when he asked me.  I’m not leaving you in the lurch am I, with the rent?”

“Don’t be silly.  When I asked you to move in with me it wasn’t for the rent money, it was because I liked you.” said Jem.

“See, that’s where we’re different,” said Ben, “I think she’s awful, but I figured she could help with the mortgage.”

“He’s such a romantic.” I said.

The first set ended and the musicians started to pack up and leave the stage.

“Did you want to sing in the next set, or the last one?” asked Jem.

“It doesn’t matter to me.  Who else is signed up to sing tonight?”

There were two really strong male singers playing in the next set, so I decided to wait for the last set of the night.  As Ben, Jeremy and I sat and listened to the music, I looked around the room.  There were about sixty people in the audience tonight and every now and then, I’d see someone glance over at our table, could see in their face when they recognized Ben, but it was mostly an older crowd that came to Jem’s and no one approached us or interrupted.  Jem had gone up to the stage to start tuning up with the group of guys that would be playing the last set and I started to get nervous.

“Your hand is like ice all of a sudden.” said Ben.

“Stage fright.”

“But you’ve done this lots of times.”

“In front of these people,” I indicated the room, “not in front of you.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous because of me.”

“Oh, well I’ll just stop then, shall I?”

“Close your eyes when you’re up there.  Pretend I’m not even here.”

“I can’t.  I stupidly chose songs just for you.  To maximize the possibility of humiliation.”

He grinned, “You’ll be up there with Jem, just like always.  You’ll be fine.”

Jem and the group played a few songs to warm up and then he called me up, the audience clapping in recognition.  I grabbed my glass and emptied it, then made my way up to the stage.

“Hello everyone.” I said into the mike.

There were a lot of regulars who knew me and a few people called out greetings and it all felt so familiar that I started to relax.

“Jem and I have been working on some new stuff, so if I forget the words or something, feel free to help out.” I said with a smile, “We’re going to start with ‘Lost Together’ by a band from back home, Blue Rodeo.”

It was a good song to start with because it wasn’t a stretch for me vocally.  It gave me time to warm up and try to shake the nerves.

I sang the first verse, “ _Strange and beautiful are the stars tonight, that dance around your head, in your eyes I see that perfect world, I hope that doesn’t sound too weird_.”

When I got to the chorus, I looked over at Jeremy as he reached for the higher harmony and we grinned at each other as we sang.  It wasn’t until I reached the second verse that I was able to look at Ben; he was leaning forward, his elbow on the table and his chin resting on his hand as he listened to us with a huge smile on his face.  By the time I was belting out the end of the song, I was completely in my element.

“Thank you.” I said as the room applauded.  I chatted with the audience for a few minutes while the fiddle player warmed up.  Then I introduced the next song.

 “I’m sure you’re familiar with this one, it’s a tune about needing to feel the grass under your feet and the love of a good man.”

We’d done ‘Cowboy, Take Me Away’ many times before, but like I’d told Jeremy, songs take on a whole new meaning depending on where you are in your life and the promises that have been made.  It changes the way you sing the song, and the crowd could feel it.  I saw a few people turn to look at Ben as the tune finished, and I winked at him as our eyes met.

“This is another one that’s new to us, I hope you enjoy it.  This is ‘Eavesdrop’ by the Civil Wars.”

 ‘Eavesdrop’ was the most vocally difficult song I’d chosen, since my voice is naturally low, but I’d worked on it, practiced until I was sure I could do it justice.  This time, I stared straight at Ben while I sang, watching his face as he watched me and even though he was at the back of the room, I could see the love, the appreciation on his face.

I finished the song and took a bow.  I made my way back to our table, saying hello to a few of the regulars, touched by their compliments.

“That was incredible.”

“Thank you Ben.”

“I mean it; you can really sing.  Why are you a gardener?” he asked.

“Because I like it and I’m good at it.”

“You could be head groundskeeper at Kew and you’d still be better at this.” He said, pointing at the stage.

“You say the loveliest things.”

“I’m not being nice, I’m dead serious.”

“Ben, it’s my hobby.  I do it for fun.”

“You could do it for a living.  I mean it Kai, you should be singing.”

“Yeah, that would go over well with Immigration; I’ve decided to stay in the U.K. and become a singer.”

“O.K. maybe not, but you could look for another job like your old one.  Then you’d have enough spare time to do more of this.”

“Can we not talk about this right now?  I don’t want to think about my visa and work and pipe dreams of being a singer.  A minute ago I was happy and relaxed and now, well, you’re harshing my buzz Cumberbatch.”

“I’m sorry,” he put his hand on top of mine, “After what Jeremy had said, I expected you to be good.  I didn’t expect you to be that good.  I got carried away.  Forget I said anything; let’s have another drink and see if we can make you happy and relaxed again, alright?”

Ben ordered another bottle of champagne and we sat with Jem long after closing, telling stories and enjoying each other’s company.  When we got home, I went upstairs to wash my face.  I came back into the bedroom and Ben was in bed, with his phone in his hand.  I could hear music coming from the phone.  I climbed in next to him.

“Tell me about this song.”  I hadn’t even noticed that he’d been recording me on his phone at the café.

“Lost Together?  It’s about that feeling, where you’re so stupidly, ridiculously in love that you feel adrift from reality, but at least you’re not alone in it because the other person is there too, feeling what you’re feeling.  Listen to the chorus, ‘I want all the world to know that your love’s all I need and if we’re lost, then we are lost together.’”

“And that’s how you feel?”

“Yes, I feel like I can do anything if you’re with me.”

“The Dixie Chicks one was fairly self-explanatory; grass under your feet, no tall buildings on the horizon, plus I get to be a cowboy.”

 I burst out laughing, “I’ll buy you a ten gallon hat if you want one.”

 “What about the last one, ‘Eavesdrop’?”

“’Let’s let the stars watch, let them stare, let the wind eavesdrop, I don’t care.’  That was my way of telling you I don’t care about the press, or people staring or intruding or any of it.  What does any of it matter once we get home, once it’s just us?”

“You put a lot of thought into these, didn’t you?”

“You have no idea.  I must have changed my mind a hundred times.”

“I loved them all.”

“That’s all I wanted.”

I leaned across him and took his phone, placing it on the table.  I climbed onto his lap, running my fingers through his hair as I kissed him.  His arms wrapped around my waist and he pulled me close, stroking my back through my night shirt.  I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth, my tongue sliding across it then into his mouth.  His hands moved lower, pulling my hips against his body as my mouth moved to his neck.  I sucked at his flesh, nipping at him with my front teeth, my hips moving in slow circles.  His head dropped back and he slid us down the bed.  I stretched out, lying on top of him as my fingers found his nipple, pinching gently.  I kissed a line down his chest, across his light smattering of soft hair.  I flicked my tongue around his nipple and blew softly, watching the pale pink skin pucker and harden.  I pressed my mouth over it and sucked, bit down, just a little, and his hand moved into my hair.  I bit harder and he groaned, pulling me tighter to him.  I moved to the other side and did the same, my fingernails scraping lightly down his side and I reached between our bodies, taking his penis in my hand. 

I wrapped my fingers as far around him as I could; pumping him, stroking his length as he hardened in my hand.  I slid down, sucking and biting across his torso, nipping at the thin skin over his hip bones and I watched his hand clenching in the sheets.  I ran my tongue around his cock, making him wet so my fingers were slick against his skin.  I took the head into my mouth and held him up with my hand, drawing him further inside me.  My mouth slid down his length to meet my fingers and back up, my tongue moving in slow spirals over the head.  I caught a bead of salty fluid as it oozed from him and I dipped my tongue into the opening, making his hips jump.  I heard his sigh as I sucked harder, and I rolled to the side to get a better angle, wanting to take as much of him as I could.  My mouth was wet, making sloppy sucking sounds as I sank lower, my lips stretched around him.  He dug his fingers into my scalp as his hips rose off the bed and I pushed, felt him hit the back of my throat and he groaned loudly.

 “Kai, stop, I need to be inside you.”

I sat up, pulling my night shirt over my head and throwing it to the floor.  Facing his feet, I swung my leg over him.  I opened myself with my fingers and settled over him, moving my hips, spreading my slippery secretions all along his hard length.  I slid back and forth, the head of his cock bumping against my ass and I reached down and took his balls in my hand, squeezing gently.

“Fucking hell.” He rasped, his hips pumping against me.

I leaned back and reached for his cock, raising him, rubbing him against myself and finally pushed him against my slit, easing him inside me. 

“Oh god, you’re so wet,” he sighed, “You feel amazing.”

My muscles clenched around him as the sound of his voice sent a shiver up my spine and I moaned as I sat up, my breath catching as I took him deep, my hips moving in slow circles against his groin.  He put his hands under my ass and lifted me, urging me to move faster.  I rose onto my knees, slid back down, my head falling back as I found a rhythm that worked for me.  He was groaning, his hips coming off the bed as he tried to get deeper, tried to make me move faster.  I resisted, moving at my own pace and suddenly he sat up, his chest against my back as he fisted his hand into my hair, his teeth sinking into my shoulder.  I yelped and bucked against him, so he bit me again, his hand on my hip, pushing me to increase my speed and I laughed out loud at his frustration.  His arms wrapped around my waist and he flipped us over, landing on top of me, driving himself hard into me.

“Jesus.” I gasped.

He pushed my legs apart with his knees and bent over me, his hand working its way under my belly, finding my clit and he rubbed me at me furiously, pounding himself into me as he bit at my back.  I tilted my hips, throwing myself back toward him, the force of his strokes making me grunt with every thrust as our bodies slammed together.

“Fuck me Ben, make me come.” I moaned, pushing my knees into the mattress, trying to raise myself to him.

He pulled me up with him so we were both on our knees, my face pressed against the mattress.  He wrapped his hands around my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he doubled his speed, his breathing harsh.  He kept up a punishing tempo, and I felt hot ribbons coiling inside me, releasing and I wailed, shaking with the force of it.  He pulled out of me, falling to the bed beside me.

“I want to come in your mouth.” He said, reaching for me.

I quickly rolled onto my side and slid down to take him in my mouth again.  I could taste myself on him and I moaned deep in my throat as he thrust into me.  I put my hand on his leg and relaxed, breathing through my nose as he pumped his hips at me, groaning as he got closer.  I sucked hard, and tasted saltiness on my tongue as he jerked against me, filling my mouth as he came.  I swallowed and held him in my mouth, gently bathing him with my tongue as he softened.

I wriggled back up the bed and put my head on his chest, listening to his heart thumping, gradually slowing.

“That was…Jesus, what the hell was that?”

“I know.” I said, chuckling, “You’d think we hadn’t seen each other in a year.”

“If we’re going to keep this nonsense up, I’m going to have to start taking some kind of vitamin supplements.”

“I’ll get some tomorrow.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s entirely self-serving.  It’s in my best interests to keep you fighting fit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How the hell did I end up writing a romance novel?!  
> Oh well, in for a penny...


	13. Old Friends and New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Packing up and moving house, and Ben finally meets Kai's friends.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 13 – Old Friends and New

 

I rolled over and looked at the clock.  It was just after 7, but Ben was already up.  I brushed my teeth, washed my face and got dressed.  He looked up as I walked into the kitchen, his eyes brightening with a smile.

“Good morning,” he said, his hand reaching toward me, “Did I wake you?”

“No,” I said, leaning into him as his arm wrapped around my waist, “how long have you been up?”

I’d noticed the empty coffee cup on the table and two sections of this morning’s paper already discarded on the floor.

“I got up about 5:30.  Still not on London time, I guess.”

“That’s not much sleep, we were up late.”

“I can have a nap later.  I don’t have anything important to do today.  What are your plans?”

“I thought maybe I should head over to my house and start packing.  I need some more clothes, my bathroom stuff.  And I’d like to get my bike over here, so I don’t have to take the tube or the bus if you’re busy.”

“I can drive you over and bring your things back in the car, so you can drive your bike.  Or you could drive the car and I could bring your bike…” He said, looking up at me with an impish grin.

“Fat chance.  If you want to ride a real bike, get your own.”  I said, smiling down at him.  “Hey, why don’t we ride up to your parent’s place on Sunday, instead of taking the car?”

“Sure, if you want Mum to give you the silent treatment the entire time we’re there.  I’ve told you, she hates that I ride.  She had a friend, an actor she’d worked with who was badly hurt in a bike wreck and she’s never forgotten it even though it was a million years ago.  I don’t think we should rub her nose in the fact that you ride as well.”

“No, I suppose not.   It’s just as well; I’d like to bring her flowers and that’d be harder on the Ducati.”

“Especially the way you drive,” He grinned, “You’d arrive with nothing but a bunch of stems with a bow around them.”

I kissed the top of his head and went to put the kettle on for coffee.  Ben went upstairs to shower and I made myself some toast and read the paper. 

We left for my house with a couple of Ben’s larger suitcases in the boot of the car.  Jem was still in bed when we got there, so we went into my room and shut the door.  I opened the closet, flipping through the rack of clothes, trying to figure out what I most needed and what could be left behind for a later trip.  Ben leaned against the headboard, pulling a book from the stack on the nightstand and I put the suitcases on the bed, opening them.  I pulled the top drawer from the dresser and dumped the whole thing into the first case.  Ben looked up as I slid the drawer back into place and reached for the next one down.  He watched as I flipped the drawer full of t-shirts on top of the layer of socks and underwear and bras, pushing them down with my hand.

“That’s how you pack?” He said, with a dubious look on his face.

“It is if I’m only going across the city and then unpacking again.”

“They’ll still get wrinkled.”

“How would you do it then, Mr. World Traveller?”

He reached over and grabbed a handful of shirts, laid them on the bed and started folding each one in half, before rolling it into a tube and placing it back into the suitcase, making a neat line of shirt sausages.

“Oh my god.  Alright, carry on; I’m going to go pack my bathroom things.”

He glanced up and grinned at me as I left the room with my overnight bag in my hand.  I went down the hall to the loo and grabbed my shampoo and conditioner from the shower. I placed my tiny, nearly empty jewelry box in the bottom of the bag and emptied my single drawer full of makeup, hair ties and various doo-dads defiantly on top, and then opened the cupboard under the sink to get my blow dryer and the tampons and pads that were stored there.  I crammed everything into the bag and forced the zipper closed.  When I got back to my room, the first suitcase was zipped up and Ben was standing in front of my closet, looking at the clothes.

“You really don’t have much, do you?” he asked.

“No.  You’ve seen me; I mostly live in jeans, t-shirts and boots.  Speaking of which, all my jeans and sweaters are in the bottom two drawers.”

“Not anymore.  Your jeans and jumpers are in the suitcase.”

“You fit the contents of all four drawers into one suitcase?”

“Yes.  I’ve had a lot of practice.  What do you want to bring from the closet?”

I gave up and let him pack my clothes.  I stood at the closet door, tossing things back to him and watching as he somehow condensed almost every piece of clothing I had into the two large wheeled suitcases.

“That’s impressive.”

“Thank you.  Now, what else do you absolutely need to bring with this first load?”

“Shoes and my knives.  Your kitchen knives are terrible.”

“Do you have another suitcase?”

I pulled my two medium sized cases from the top of the closet.

“I’ll pack your shoes in that one while you get your knives from the kitchen.” He said, getting up from the bed, “What else?  Any other kitchen things, or pictures you want to bring, maybe?”

I sat down on the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling a twinge of sadness.  I’d been living here almost the whole time I’d been in the U.K.  The finality of packing pictures, mementos, to move away from here hit me like a ton of bricks.

“What’s wrong?” Ben asked, sitting back down and putting his hand on my leg.

“I’ve been so busy thinking about how exciting it is to be moving in with you that I forgot to think about how I’d feel about moving out of this house.  I’m leaving my garden and my little house with all its memories.  And Jem.”  My eyes filled with tears.

“You’re not leaving Jem, he’s welcome at the flat or wherever we’re living any time and you’ll still be singing together.  And you’ll plant a new garden, we’ll make new memories.    Don’t be sad.”

I reached for his hand, lifted it to my lips and kissed his knuckles.

“It was one thing to be packing clothes, but when you mentioned pictures, it struck me that I’m really leaving here.  For good.  But how could I possibly be sad when you say things like that?”

He kissed me on the forehead and stood, pulling me up with him.

“I want you to feel at home at the flat.  I want you to have your things there too, not to feel like you’re staying at a hotel.  And I want to be able to look around and see you there, to feel your presence in my home.  Our home.  And there’s a picture of you on the wall of the sitting room that I’d really like to hang in my office.”

 “The black and white one?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I smiled, seeing the picture in my mind.  Jem had taken it when we were on our first surfing trip together.  It was a close-up, taken on the beach, my hair blowing in the wind as I smiled up at the camera.  Even in black and white, my freckles and sun burn were obvious and I looked relaxed and happy.  It was my favourite picture of myself and Jeremy had had it blown up and framed as a gift to me.

“You want it for your office?”

“Yes.  I want to be able to see it when I’m on the phone, deciding whether or not to accept a job that’ll take me away from you.”

I put my arms around his waist, my head on his chest, and I wondered what I’d done to get this lucky; to have this amazing, kind, loving man want to have a life with me.

“If you want it, it’s yours.” I said, meaning more than just that photo.

“You two scared the shit out of me.  I thought I was being burgled.” said Jem, standing in the doorway, yawning and scratching his belly through his shirt.

“You are,” Ben said, “I’m stealing your best girl.”

“Well fuck,” said Jem, “there’s no way my insurance is going to cover that.  She’s the most valuable thing in the whole damned house.”

“Stop it.  You’re going to make me cry.”  I wailed, going to Jeremy and giving him a hug.

“Oh no, not the waterworks, I can’t bear it.  Not with this hangover.”

We went to the kitchen and I made Jem a farewell pot of tea.  He drank it, cringing as Ben and I crashed around the kitchen, packing my things as loudly as possible.

I left them together while I went into the sitting room to decide which pictures to take along.  I picked up the one of my parents, taken on the front steps of their house, leaning on each other, smiling at my brother who had taken it.  I also took the group photo from a party last spring, Jem and I with our arms around each other, standing behind the same friends who would be coming to our party on Saturday; all of us laughing at something Jem had said just before the timer went off and the camera capturing us in that moment of joy.  Ben helped me wrap the pictures and pack everything into the car, then I put on my riding leathers and stood in the doorway to say good bye to Jeremy.

“I can’t look at you.” I said.

“Why?  Do I look as awful as I feel?”

I started to laugh and I reached for him, squeezing him tightly.  He hugged me back, hard, kissing the top of my head.

“We’re being stupid,” he said, “we’re going to see each other in two days to do the food for Saturday.”

“I know.  It doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to miss you so goddamned much.  Thank you Jeremy; for this house and the café and surfing trips and introducing me to all your friends.  Thank you for being my best friend.”

“Am I?  Still?”

“Yes Jem, you are.  Just because I have Ben, it doesn’t mean I don’t need you.  Don’t ever forget that.  I love you Jemmy.”

“I love you too, Maple Leaf.”

I turned and walked slowly down the stairs to my bike.  I swung my leg over the saddle and started the engine, looking back to the door, to Jem.  He blew me a kiss and went back inside, shutting the door behind him.  I pulled my helmet on, took a deep breath and nodded to Ben who was leaning on his car.  He nodded back and I pulled away from the curb, heading for home.

I sat on my bike in front of the flat, waiting for Ben to arrive.  He pulled in behind me and we carried my things up the stairs.  We left the bags with my kitchen tools and all the pictures downstairs and took the bags of clothes and toiletries up.

“I’ll move some things around and make room for your clothes.  Why don’t you organize the loo?”  He said.

I took my bag to the bathroom and opened all the drawers, moving his things around, condensing them so I could make room for all my ‘girl stuff’.  It didn’t take long, maybe fifteen minutes before I was finished and I pushed all the drawers shut, looked at my makeup bag and hairbrush on the counter and smiled to myself.  I went back into the bedroom where Ben was inside the large closet, folding sweaters and stacking them on a shelf. 

“Which drawers do you want me to use?” I asked.

He looked at me over his shoulder, “I’ve already unpacked everything else.”

He took my hand and walked me over to the large dresser by the door, opening the top drawer, proudly displaying his handiwork.  He’d moved all of my underclothes into one side of the drawer beside his, all of my socks into one side of the next and he’d put all of my shirts into the one below that.

“All of your jeans are on the shelves in the closet and everything else has been hung up.”

“How did you do that so quickly?”

“Same way I packed it all up, only in reverse.”

“Alright, I’m impressed.” I said, pulling the top drawer open again, “And look how nice our underwear looks together in there.”

“Stop trying to distract me.  I’ve a picture to hang.”

I worked on the kitchen while Ben put my pictures on display on the shelves next to his and then disappeared into his office.  I heard the sound of him hammering a nail into the wall and when I was finished, I walked down the hall to see what he’d done.  He was sitting in the leather chair, his feet up on the desk, looking at my picture on the wall.

“Come here.” He said, swinging his legs off the desk and sitting up.

I went to him and sat on his lap.  I looked around the room, the tall bookshelves stacked to overflowing, scripts and papers littering the desk.

“I’ve never been in here.” I said.

“Really?  All the times you stayed here when I wasn’t home, you’ve never come to have a look ‘round?”

“No, it felt like your inner sanctum, a private place.”

“It’s not.  Unless I’m on the phone, talking business or doing an interview, you’re welcome any time.  Look.” He said, pointing to my photo on the wall, where he could see it from his chair.

“I love that picture.  I wish I looked that good all the time.”

“What are you talking about?  The reason I like it so much is because that’s how I see you when I close my eyes; that warm, smiling face, those gorgeous freckles across your nose, your eyes sparkling like you’re just on the verge of laughter, about to say something awful.  That’s you.  That’s what you look like.”

I took his face in my hands and pressed my mouth to his; trying to put everything I was feeling into that one kiss.  He pulled my shirt from the waist of my jeans, his hands sliding under the cloth, warm on my back.  I leaned into him, one hand slipping around the back of his neck.  His fingernails skated across my ribs as his hand came around my body, moving up to cup my breast through my bra, his thumb stroking over my nipple as it hardened to his touch.  I sighed with pleasure against his lips and he moved his hands to undo the clasp at my back, pulled my shirt and bra up and over my head, dropped them to the floor.  He took my breasts in his hands, lifting, pushing them together and drawing circles over my nipples with his thumbs.  I looked at his face; his eyes watching my nipples rise to his caresses.  He ducked his head, his mouth pulling, sucking at me as I leaned into him, pushing myself down on his lap.  He tilted his head back, releasing my nipple and grabbed my ass, pulling me hard against him.

“I’m going to have you in every room of this house,” he said, “I want you to remember every time you walk into a room, what we did there.”

“As if I weren’t already driven utterly to distraction by the thought of you?”

I slid off his lap to the floor and knelt between his legs.  Unbuckling his belt and opening his trousers, I dragged my fingernail along the outline of him through the cloth.  I reached up, unbuttoning his shirt, my lips and teeth trailing down his torso, across his taut belly as I grabbed his waistband and pulled, removed his clothing.  He leaned back, reclining in the chair and I took him in my mouth, working him with my tongue, sucking him to hardness.  He kept his eyes open, watching me, as my lips stretched tightly around him.  I slid down, pushing him deep until he connected with the back of my throat, my eyes tearing, my mouth filling with saliva. 

I slipped him out of my mouth, holding him in my hand and pressed him to my chest.  Ben reached down and squeezed my breasts together, and I held him to me as I started to move, watching as his cock came closer to my mouth.  Each time I moved down I took him in my mouth, wetting him so he slipped easily into the tight space between my breasts when I rose up again on my knees.  My nipples were hard under Ben’s hands and as he played with them, I reached down to undo my jeans.  I slipped my hand inside my underwear pushing a finger between my lower lips and stroked myself.  I pressed hard against my clit, moving my hips, rising and falling between Ben’s legs.  He let go of my boobs, reached for my hand and raised it to his lips, sucking the taste from my fingers. 

He dropped forward onto his knees, shoved the chair away and putting his hands at my waist, pushed me up onto my feet.  He yanked his shirt off and dragged my jeans and underwear down.  His arms wrapped around my hips and he buried his face between my legs, his tongue curving, searching for my clitoris.  I gasped and leaned back against the desk and Ben put his hand behind my knee, lifting my leg to rest on his shoulder.  He pushed himself deeper, his tongue sliding into my wetness and he groaned against my skin, the sound making me shiver.  His hand moved between my legs, his long fingers pushing at me, into me.  He clamped his lips over my clit, sucking hard as his fingers glided easily in and out of my wet heat.  He turned his hand, his fingers bending up, stroking hard against my g-spot and I moaned, pushing myself at him.  He slowed, slid his fingers from me.  He stood up and I wrapped my legs around him, drawing him closer.  He reached around me, his arm sweeping the papers from the desk, sending a stapler flying across the room.  He leaned over me, pushing me back as I raised my head to meet him, tracing his lips, licking myself from his soft mouth.

I could feel his penis pressing against me and I tilted my hips.  He pushed, started to move into me and I winced, taking a deep breath.

He stopped moving.  “What’s wrong?”

“It hurts.  But only for a second,” I reached for him, needing him to move, “I’m fine, don’t stop.” 

“How can it still hurt?  Why haven’t you said anything?”

“I haven’t said anything because I like it.  And it hurts because you’re huge.  Have you seen the size of that thing?”

He burst out laughing, and that set me off, the two of us giggling like a pair of idiots.

“Maybe we just need to do this more often, you know, so you can get used to it?” he suggested with a devilish grin.

“Can we do this more often?  I mean, from a purely scientific perspective, is it actually possible?”

“I’m willing to try, if you are.  In the interests of science, of course.”

“I have got to remember to get you those supplements.” I said, with a grin.

He reached across the desk and grabbed a pen, writing ‘supplements’ on my stomach.

“There, shopping list.”  He said, tossing the pen away, “Now shut up, I have an experiment to conduct.”

He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to the edge of the desk, my legs still locked behind his back.  I dug my heels into him, pushing him deeper.  He sank himself into me, pulled back, watching my face and I smiled.  He moved slowly, long strokes, almost pulling out then sheathing himself fully.  I flexed my inner muscles, squeezing him as he slid into me, enjoying the way he filled me, shivering with delight as we moved together.  He held my hips, rocked against me, his thrusts shallower as he ground his pelvis into mine.

“Ooh, keep doing that.”

He pushed harder and I felt the tension in my groin start to build as he bumped against me, his pelvic bone massaging my clitoris.  He was deep inside me, grinding on me, and I moaned as he lay on top of me, sliding his arms under mine, pressing me against the hard desk.  My arms went around his back as he sucked at my neck, nipped at my collarbone and I lifted my ass, finding the perfect angle.

“Don’t stop, please…”

And then I heard his voice, felt the deep rumble of it all the way to my toes.

“Let me feel you Kai, let me feel you let go.”

I dug my fingers into his back, the first sharp moment of my release uncoiling.

“That’s it, come for me my love, I want to feel you tighten around me, I want to hear you.”

The spasms tore through me, explosive, shocking in their intensity and I cried out, my face buried in his neck, clinging to him as I shuddered.  I turned my head and his mouth was on mine, hungry; he was so excited by my response to him.

He pulled me upright, hard against his chest and I slipped my arms around the back of his neck as he drove himself into me, focussed now on his own need.  He groaned into my mouth and I claimed his tongue, sucking it between my lips.  He pulled back, slammed hard into me again and again until with a throaty grunt he buried himself deep, his whole body rigid as he said my name, over and over until it was just a whisper of breath in my ear.

I ran my fingers gently through his curls, damp with sweat.  My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at him, our eyes locking.  Every emotion was visible, I could feel what he was feeling as he looked at me and right now, in this moment, it quite literally took my breath away.

“I have nothing Ben; I have no words to tell you how I feel about you.  I love you isn’t enough, it doesn’t begin to tell you what you are to me.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” He said, his hand on my cheek, “I know.  Beautiful girl, you show me every time you look at me, every time you touch me, every time you say my name.  I can feel it whether we’re in the same room or I’m thousands of miles away.”

We stayed there, our arms wrapped around each other, even our breathing in unison, as though we were trying to absorb each other, to become one.  Eventually I shivered, the reality of the cold, hard desk intruding on the moment.  He lifted me off the desk, kissing me one more time, before picking up my clothes and handing them to me with a smile.

“I’m starving.” He said.

“There’s Bolognese sauce in the freezer.  I’ll heat it up if you’ll put some water on for the pasta.”

When I’d unpacked, I’d done a little rearranging of the kitchen.  With Ben away so much, I probably used the kitchen more than he ever had.  The few times we’d prepared something together he’d been a willing assistant but the truth was, I worked faster when he wasn’t helping.  He did seem to enjoy watching me cook and asked tons of questions.  And he was very good at keeping my wine glass full and reaching things from the higher shelves. 

We ate on the sofa, sitting with our legs touching, watching a Doctor Who DVD.  At the end of the episode, Ben muted the television, turned to me.

“I have something to ask you.” he said.

He looked so serious, so thoughtful, that I turned to face him, to give him my full attention.

“This is really important, so think carefully before you answer.”

“I’m listening.”

“Favourite Doctor?”

“No.  No way.  Do you think I’m stupid?  Everyone knows you don’t get into a discussion of favourite Doctors with a Brit.  And especially not with you.  How many of them do you know personally?”

“Three.  Three who I’d call friends and I’ve met some of the others.”

“You see?  This is a no-win situation for me.  You’ll either disagree with me, or you’ll want to know why my favourite is my favourite and that’s a no-win situation for you.  You’ll just be jealous.”

“Why would I be jealous?  Wait a minute.  Have you screwed a Doctor?”

“No,” I said, laughing, “but I’m still not telling you who it is.”

“Please?  I won’t be mad.  Or jealous.  You’re allowed to have your own opinion.”

“You first.”

“Is this a trick?  Are you just going to agree with me whomever I choose?”

I grinned, “Well, I’m not now.”

“Fine,” he said with a deep, put-upon sigh, “Now this is difficult for me, because I have to remove friendship from the equation, but, gun to my head, I’d have to go with Smith.”

“Interesting.  Why?”

“I love the loopiness of him.  He’s just so completely out there that when he does do something serious, it just sets me right back on my heels.  The whole thing with River and that storyline; I think he was fantastic.  Now you.”

“Tennant.”

“Because..?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake.  In my own defense, I have to tell you that I’m fully aware of how shallow this is, especially considering your reason for choosing Smith.  But it’s because I have a crush on him.  Mostly it’s the accent.”

He stared at me and very slowly, he started to smile, then he started to laugh.

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you.” I said, getting up and taking the dishes from the coffee table and going to the kitchen.

I put the plates in the sink and turned the tap on and could still hear him laughing over the sound of the water.  I had started to put the left-over food away when he appeared in the doorway, trying desperately to look serious.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s the voice thing isn’t it?  You have a voice kink.  That’s why you said I’d be jealous.” 

He was still fighting to keep from smiling.

“I’m glad you think it’s so damned funny.  And no, I don’t have a voice kink, that’s just you, your voice.  What I have is an accent kink.  I don’t know why, but it’s the Scottish thing.  It completely does me in.  I only said you’d be jealous because you know him and that makes it weird.”

“What about an Irish accent, or mine?” 

“I like your accent because I like your voice, even if you do say ‘shedule’ instead of ‘schedule’ and ‘vitamin’ with a short ‘i’.”

“I believe you’ll find,” he said, in a lecturing tone, “that those are in fact the correct pronunciations.”

“Vitamin comes from the Latin, ‘vita’ as in ‘vital’ – long ‘i’, so no, it’s not correct it’s just silly.  And ‘shedule’?  Did you learn that at shool or at _school_?”  I turned the tap off.

“Do you know what you’re doing?  What this is called?” he asked, “Deflecting.  You’re trying to change the subject.  Tell me more about this thing you have for David Tennant.”

“And John Hannah.  And, oh god, Ewan McGregor.”  I said, thinking he’d never let it go at this point anyway, so I may as well rub it in a little.

“Is that so?” He was still smiling, “Why didn’t you move to Scotland?”

“I might have, if I could have found work there.”  I said, putting the containers of food in the fridge.

“So if Scotland had needed gardeners, we wouldn’t be together?”

“I suppose not.  And if I hadn’t become a gardener, you’d never have met me, or if I hadn’t been working in your neighbourhood that day, or if you’d been dating someone when we met.”

His eyes skated away from mine and his cheeks started to turn pink.  My mouth fell open.

“You picked me up at a bar and brought me home and you were seeing someone?”

I was stunned, considering the implications of what he’d said.  He’d cheated on someone.  With me.

“Not- I – look, we’d only been out together a couple of times.  It wasn’t serious or exclusive or anything like that.”

 “Even so…why didn’t you say anything?  Before now?”

“Because it didn’t seem important – it wasn’t a relationship.  We’d had a couple of meals together and that’s it.  I really didn’t think it was going to go anywhere and before you ask, no, I hadn’t slept with her.”

“Oh.  Well, that’s different.  At least I think it is.”

“It is.  But if I’m being completely honest, I’m not sure what I’d have done differently even if it had been something more and you and I had met like we did.  I’d like to believe I’d have done the right thing, but I don’t know.  You’ve had a rather alarming effect on me from the beginning.  I don’t behave rationally when I’m with you.”

“Don’t you dare try to blame me for your behaviour,” I said, fighting a grin, “you’re entirely responsible for your own conduct, pal.”

He hung his head, trying (and failing) to look contrite.

“You’re absolutely right.  Unless you’re wearing stockings, in which case…”

We grinned at each other, at the memory of that night.

“Penance.”  I said, “You can do the dishes.”

“Fine,” he sighed, rolling up his sleeves, “There’s one more thing I should probably tell you.”

“Oh god, what now?”

He started to chuckle, but looked embarrassed.

“She’s a friend of Victoria’s.  That’s how I met her.”

“Are you fucking serious?  No wonder she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.  She just doesn’t like you.”

I threw a dishtowel at him, went back to the sitting room and dug through the stack of DVD’s until I found what I was looking for.

“You finish up in there,” I called, “I’m just going to watch another episode.”

By the time he was finished with the dishes, I was curled up in the corner of the couch, watching David Tennant and biting my thumb nail.

Later that night in bed, Ben was reading and I was working on the list of food and drink we needed for the party.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him put the script down and I could feel him looking at me. 

“Yes?” I asked.

“You were right.  Even if it was nothing serious, I should have told you.”

“I wish you had, if only to explain Victoria’s behaviour toward me.  Although, if it was as casual as you say, then it wasn’t really any of my business, was it?  I’m the one who told you I didn’t want to hear any details about your previous relationships, so I have no reason to be annoyed that you didn’t say anything before today.  As long as you weren’t screwing her, I don’t care.”

“I wasn’t.  I didn’t.”

“Then it’s forgotten.” I said, putting my notebook and pen on the nightstand, “Have I mentioned how much I like your glasses?”

“No, I don’t believe you have.” he said, throwing his script to the floor and reaching for me, “I could leave them on if you like.  The better to see you with…”

“You know who else wears glasses?” I asked as he pulled me down onto my back, “James McAvoy.”

He rolled on top of me and said in a startlingly good brogue, “You’d best not be thinking of anyone else; now haud yer wheesht or I’ll skelp yer behind.”

I stared up at him.

“I’m not sure I heard you,” I said, “could you say that again?”

He was good enough to indulge me.

 

The next day, I finally received the call I’d been hoping for.

“Good news Ms. MacBeth, your extension has been approved.” said my lawyer.

I was glad I was sitting down; I’d probably have fallen otherwise.

“How long?” I asked.

“Thirty days – that’s on top of the original sixty.  What have you done about employment?”

“I’ve been looking, but haven’t had any luck yet.  I need to know about the entrepreneur visa; I can get the money.  What else do I need to do?”

“Even if you’re not ready to open, get your application in for a business license and if it’s approved, I’ll need a copy.  Once you have the money in your account, email me a bank statement so I can put it on file.  The more we can do now to show intent, the better off we’ll be.”

“Thank you Mr. Lancer.  I’ll be in touch.”

I hung up the phone and ran down the hall to Ben’s office.  He was on the phone, but as I stopped in the doorway, he looked up, raising his eyebrows.  I gave him a thumb’s up and did a little victory dance, then left him to finish his call.

I got ready to go out, wanting to get the shopping for the party done so Jem and I could do all the food without interruption on Friday.  I was going over my list one last time when Ben came down the hall.

“They approved your extension?”

“Yup, thirty days.  A whole extra month.  Do you have any idea how relieved I am?”

“Have you any idea how relieved I am?”

I stood and kissed him, and then I told him what the lawyer had said about the business visa.

“I can move the money whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll apply for the license first.  I can do it next week when we get back from visiting your parents.  If it’s not approved, there’s no point in transferring the money, O.K?”

“Of course.  Where are you off to?”

“Shopping for food and booze for Saturday.  May I take the car?”

“You may, or I could come along.”

“You can if you want to, as long as you don’t keep trying to pay for everything when I’m not looking.  This party was my idea.”

“But my friends are coming too and they’re a bunch of boozers.  Can I pay for half?”

“If you have to.”

“Give me five minutes to change.”

The liquor was no problem, we just grabbed a couple of cases of wine and a few bottles of hard stuff, but the food took forever.  I stood looking into the boot of the car at bags and bags of groceries.

“This is never going to fit into the fridge at home.  Jeremy and I are going to do the prep at the café.  Do you mind making a detour?”

“Not at all.”

Jem moved a few things around in the big walk-in fridge and we carried all the food in and packed it away.  He offered to make us dinner and since it was Thursday, Ben wanted to stay and hear me sing again.  It was so much easier this time, to get up and sing in front of him – not only because he’d already heard me, but also because I didn’t have the added pressure of having chosen songs just for him. 

It was a quiet night, so I was the only one besides Jem who sang in the third set.  I went through a list of favourites, ‘Angel Band’, a really old, traditional tune; a couple of Steve Earle songs, ‘Lonelier Than This’ and ‘Days Aren’t Long Enough’ which had a lovely harmony for Jem and I to do together and then I remembered a Lucinda Williams song that I’d briefly considered doing for Ben before.  I asked Jem if he remembered it and he nodded, then turned to the other musicians to see who else knew it.  Jem switched his acoustic for an electric guitar and we were ready.  It was called ‘Lines Around Your Eyes’ and it was fun, rollicking, very country.  By the time I was half way through, I was singing with a huge smile on my face.  I hadn’t planned to sing another one, but before I could leave the stage, someone who’d been here for my last performance asked if we’d play ‘Eavesdrop’ again and I was happy to oblige.

I plunked down in my chair, taking a quick drink and putting my glass down.  Ben took my hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Don’t say it.” I said.

“I’m not saying anything.  Well, just one thing.  You’re wonderful and I wish you’d sing around the flat.”

“I used to, when I was there by myself.  And now I will when you’re home.  Are you ready to go?”

“What’s the rush?  Don’t you want to stay and visit with Jeremy?”

“I’m spending the whole day with him tomorrow.  And I’m thirsty.”

He looked confused. 

“There’s a whole bar, right over there.” He said, pointing.

“I had something specific in mind.  Take me home Ben.  I’m in the mood for Scotch.”

It turned out that he could also drive quite quickly when he wanted to.

 

Jem and I spent Friday in the kitchen, prepping the food for Saturday.  We’d decided to do trays of finger foods rather than a sit down dinner.  Since we could do so much ahead, neither of us would have to spend a ton of time in the kitchen during the party and we could just put the trays out and let people graze.  I was stuffing grapes with goat cheese and wrapping them in prosciutto while Jem made spanakopita, folding perfect triangles of phyllo dough around the spinach and feta cheese filling.  I’d already told him about the lawyer’s call and had moved on to the visit with Ben’s Mum and Dad.

“How terrified are you?”

“On a scale of one to ten?  Twenty-six.  What if they don’t like me?”

“You’ve already met them and you said it went fairly well.”

Jem knew all about our accidental meeting at Ben’s.

“That was less than an hour though.  This is going to be two days.  Two long, long days.”

“Just be yourself.”

“Easy for you to say, everybody likes you.”

“Look, Maple Leaf, don’t worry about them liking you.  They’re parents.  The most important thing in the world to them is that their son is happy.  And he is.  He’s so obviously head over heels about you, that it’s really quite sickening.  That’s all they care about.”

“I really hope you’re right because if you are, then the only thing I need to worry about is my own mouth.”

“Swearing or putting your foot in it?”

“Yes.” I said.

“Tie a string around your finger to remind yourself to think before you speak.”

“Yeah, and then at some point I’ll be waving my hands around, saying something opinionated and ask ‘why is this fucking string on my finger?’”

The rest of the afternoon was so much fun that before we knew it, the food was done and packed away.  Jem promised to come over early and help me set everything up and I kissed him goodbye and drove home.

“How did it go?” Ben asked as I came into the flat.

“Great, Jem’s so easy to work with and we had a ball.  I brought you a few samples.”

I turned the oven on and put the food I’d brought for Ben on a baking sheet.  I went in to the other room where he was drinking a glass of wine and reading a book.

“Get yourself a glass; I’ve got a bottle open.”

He poured the wine and I sat next to him, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“Is that…stubble?” I asked in a horrified tone.

“I wasn’t going out, so I didn’t bother to shave.  It’s only one day, I’ll shave tomorrow.”

“You will or I’ll tie you down and do it for you.” I said.

“What a tempting offer.”

“It wasn’t an offer Cumberbatch, it was a warning.”

The oven bell rang and I went to put the food in.

“You know how I’ve been joking about how nervous I am over this visit with your parents?”  I said when I returned.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not joking.  I’m tying myself in knots over it.”

“I don’t know what for.  You’ve met them once already and even without me there, you handled yourself beautifully.  They already like you.”

“They don’t know me.  They know my background, my history, but they don’t know me.”

“Well that’s kind of the point isn’t it?  How will you get to know each other if you don’t come with me?”

“I’m not trying to get out of going.  I said I would and I will.  I just want you to understand how nervous I am.  This visit is a huge deal Ben.  Not only are you taking me to their house for the first time, but you and I have moved in together.  They’re going to think you’ve lost your mind.”

“I haven’t though.  Asking you to move in with me is the second best decision I’ve ever made.  The best one was asking you to come home with me that first day.  If I can see it, so will they.”

“I hope that’s true.  I’m still anxious about it though.  Two days is a long time.”

“Two days is a lifetime the way you and I do things.”

I laughed and said, “You have a point.”

“Try not to drive yourself crazy with this Kai, this weekend is supposed to be fun.  I’m going to start to get busy again after next week and I’d really like for us to just be able to relax and enjoy each other until then.”

 “I’ll be too busy tomorrow to have time to worry, and after that I’ll be in a state of high terror for two days.  So, that’s a good start, right?”  I said.

He grinned, “They’re not ogres, they’re just my parents.”

“If you say so, Shrek.” 

 

On Saturday, I got up early and took my coffee out onto the terrace to look at my list of things to get ready for tonight.  The flat needed to be tidied, and the terrace as well.  Jem would be bringing the food and I’d asked Ben to set up the bar.  I went back inside and while I finished my coffee, I cut limes and lemons and put them into crystal bowls, then covered them and put them into the fridge.  When Ben came downstairs, he asked if he had time to go out for a paper, so I asked him to pick up ice while he was out.  Once he was gone, I quickly vacuumed and made sure the downstairs loo was clean and stocked.  When Ben got home, I was back on the terrace, turning all the seat cushions over and making sure none of them were wet.  I gave him time to have his coffee and read the paper by going upstairs to figure out what I was going to wear that night. 

I really didn’t have much in the way of clothes, and I almost chose the jersey dress that I’d worn on our first date before I remembered that Victoria was coming and I was sure she’d notice.  I found the cream coloured linen trousers that I’d bought for New Orleans and dug around until I came up with a black rayon button down shirt.  I laid my clothes out on the bed and went back downstairs to put Ben to work.

By the time Jem arrived, everything but the food was done.  We worked together for an hour and then I set him loose in the kitchen and went to shower and get ready.  I’d put on my make-up and dried my hair and I went to get dressed.  Ben was sitting on the bed, already dressed in a soft green shirt and grey slacks.

“Hi.”  He smiled.

“Hi yourself.”  I said, joining him.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“No, for some reason I’m not.  Are you?

“Yeah.  It feels like opening night.”

“I know I made them sound crazy, but my friends are all lovely people.  And Jem and your friends will be here.  Try to relax; I want you to have fun.”

“You’re here so I’ll be fine.”

“No, you can’t rely on me.  I’m planning on getting drunk and embarrassing you.”

He laughed and said, “Do you remember I told you I’d brought you a present when I came home?”

“Yes, now that you mention it.”

“Here.”  He passed me a little black box with a white ribbon tied around it.

I untied the ribbon and opened the box.  Inside, was a black velvet pouch.  I undid the drawstring and tipped the contents into my hand.  For a second, I thought they were earrings and then I picked one up and looked at it more closely.  It was a gold filigree disk, with a hole in the centre and a small dangling pendant at the bottom.  I turned it over and saw a loop of black rubber with a metal slider threaded over it.

“Ben, are these _nipple clamps_?” 

“Yes.  I’m not sure how I feel that you know that.  I’d never seen anything like them before.”

“I’ve seen other ones, but nothing this beautiful.”

“Have you ever worn them?”

“No.”  My cheeks were getting warm.

“The woman in the store said these ones are safe to wear for long periods, because the loop is soft and really easy to adjust.  Will you wear them for me?"

“During the party?”

“Yes.  I love the idea of knowing that you’re wearing them, of being the only one who knows.  I want you to feel them every time you move and to think about what I’m going to do to you later, when everyone has gone home.”

My heart was racing, my breath heavy.

“Help me get dressed.” I said.

He smiled with delight and stood, pulling me to my feet.

“Can you find me a bra that these won’t be seen through?” I asked

He went to the dresser and hunted through the top drawer until he found what he wanted.  He’d chosen a black lace bra and a high-waisted tanga.  He came back to the bed and knelt in front of me, holding the panties for me to step into.  He reached for my trousers and helped me into them, then stood, pulling my towel off.  He ran his fingers over my nipples, pinching lightly and bent to take one in his mouth.  I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feel of his lips, his tongue, playing over my skin.  He moved to the other side, pulling the nipple into a hard point, nipping my flesh with his teeth.  He lifted his head, looked down at me, and reached for the first clamp.

“I don’t know how tight you’re going to want these, so tell me if it’s too much.”

I nodded.  He pressed the gold to my skin, the black rubber loop over my nipple.  I watched as his fingers slowly slid the ring up until the loop started to tighten.

“Keep going,” I said as he moved upward, “More.  A little more.  Stop.”

It wasn’t too bad, but my nipple was being held very firmly and I wondered how long it would take before it started to become painful.

“Put the other one on.” I said.

He held the second one to me, carefully tightening until I stopped him.  He looked down at me, his thumbs playing over the engorged flesh where it poked through the gold.  He bent and picked my bra off the bed then took my hand and led me to the bathroom.  With every step, weight of the metal pulled down on the loops.

“Look,” he said, turning me to face the mirror. 

He stood behind me, his hand on my waist as I looked at myself.

“Jesus Christ.  Why is that so hot?”  I asked.

He chuckled, his lips on my neck.  We both jumped as Jeremy yelled from downstairs.

“Could you two wrap it up and come give me a hand?  It’s almost seven o’clock.”

“I’ll be right down,” I called, then said to Ben, “I think we may have lost track of time.  Could you help me with my bra?”

Grinning, he placed my bra over my breasts and I held it in place while he did it up.  I did a little adjusting then followed him back to the bedroom, where he held my shirt while I slipped into it.  He did up the buttons while I watched, aware with every breath I took that my nipples were standing at attention, rubbing against the cups of my bra.

“Shoes please,” I requested, tucking my shirt in, “and I need a belt too.”

Ben came out of the closet and knelt, holding my shoes for me to step into, then doing up the ankle straps. 

He picked my black leather belt up from the bed and held the buckle in the palm of his hand.  He slowly folded the belt into a loop, slapping it lightly against his leg.  He raised his eyebrow, looking me in the eyes.  My heart started to hammer in my chest.

“Jeremy’s waiting.” I said quietly.

Ben stepped closer, pulling me against his body, his arms around my back.  My nipples, erect and sensitive pressed against him.

“Just one?” he whispered.

I leaned my forehead against his chest.

“Yes.”  I said.

He raised his arm and the leather loop smacked down on my butt.  Against my clothing, it hardly made a sound, but I jumped at the sting, an involuntary gasp leaving my lips.  I heard him exhale slowly before he placed a gentle kiss on my lips, then he threaded my belt through the loops of my trousers and did up the buckle.

“If you need to take these off,” he said, his thumbs circling my nipples, “come and find me.”

I nodded.  As we went down the stairs, I was hyper aware of every movement.

“Sorry Jem, I couldn’t find my earrings.”

“Jesus you’re a terrible liar.  Get that food out of the oven and find me some trays.  Ben, open some wine, I need a drink.”

I showed Jem where the trays were and we quickly got the food organized.  Ben poured three glasses of wine.

“To new friends.”  He said, raising his glass.

“To not being humiliated by old ones.” I answered and took a drink.

The buzzer rang and I looked at the monitor as I hit the button to unlock the door.

Cass, Leah and Charlie were the first to arrive.  I stood at the open door of the flat as they made their way up the stairs.  They’d brought a huge bouquet of slipper orchids, in shades of brown and green mixed with orange and red gerbera daisies and a couple of bottles of wine.  I passed the flowers to Jeremy, telling him there was a vase under the sink and took their coats.  As I turned from hanging their jackets, Charlie reached out to hug me.  I clenched my teeth as my nipples pressed against the inside of my bra, fervently hoping that he couldn’t feel the metal through my clothes and that the hugging would be kept to a bare minimum tonight.  I led the three of them into the sitting room, where Ben was putting on some music.  An old Rufus Wainwright song started playing and Ben turned to greet them.

“Ben, these are my friends.”  I introduced each of them in turn as Ben shook their hands.

It was hysterical, watching their faces as they tried to act as though this sort of thing were an everyday occurrence for them, and I found myself wondering how many times Ben had seen this same look on my face as we’d gotten to know each other.  Ben offered drinks and as they each told him what they’d like, I went to answer the door again.

Oliver and Victoria came up the stairs, she looking cold and stoic and Ollie greeting me like a life-long friend.  ‘Not again’ I thought as Oliver grabbed me.  This hugging was going to be the death of me.  I took the bottle from Oliver’s hands and brought them to the sitting room.  Before I had a chance to make introductions, the buzzer rang again.

“Shit,” I said, “Everyone, this is everyone and I’ll be right back.”

Without bothering to check the monitor, I hit the button to open the outside door and reached for my glass of wine on the counter, taking a deep swig before returning to open the door of the flat.  I swung the door open and froze.  Tom Hiddleston was standing in the doorway.

“H-hello.” I said.

“Hi.  I’m Tom, are you Kai?” he asked.     

“Kai, yes.”  I stared at him for a moment, remembering what I’d said to Ben; that Cass and Leah were going to spend the entire party digging for information about Tom Hiddleston. 

“I’m so sorry,” I said, pulling myself together, “please, come in.  It’s lovely to meet you and I don’t usually talk like Frankenstein’s monster.”

He was shrugging his jacket off, his eyes twinkling as he grinned at me.

“No, I didn’t think you did.  According to Ben you’re the wittiest, most intelligent person on the planet, so I did rather expect more.”

“Yes, and I believe you threatened him with bodily harm if he mentioned my name again?”

“Ooh, I can’t believe he told you that.” He said, passing me his coat, his face scrunched in embarrassment.

“He tells me everything, Mr. Hiddleston.  Best keep that in mind.” I said and turned from the closet.  “Would you like a drink?”

“Yes please, a vodka and tonic?”

I led him through, watching to see my friend’s reactions.  As Ben leaped up from the sofa to greet Tom with a huge hug, I looked at Cass and Leah.  I wasn’t sure they were even breathing.  Charlie was standing at the end of the sofa with a blissed out grin on his face.

Ben stood with his arm around Tom and turned to the room.

“Tom, these are Kai’s friends, Cass, Leah and Charlie and my friends, Oliver and Victoria.” 

As Tom made a circuit of the room, shaking hands, I went to mix his drink.  Ben came up behind me, his hands warm on my waist.

“Alright my love?”

“You could have warned me that you’d invited him, so I didn’t pull a full lemur at the door.”

“I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

As the buzzer rang once again, I squeezed a lime into the glass I was holding and passed it to Ben.

“Give that to Tom, and keep your fingers crossed for me that no one else fucking hugs me.”

Chloe and Liam were coming up the stairs with David and Elise.  I was grateful, but not surprised that Ben had thought to invite people that I already knew and liked.  Once I’d gotten everyone drinks and found a foot stool so Chloe could have her feet up, I opened the doors to the terrace, where the lights softly glowed in the darkness.  It gave people another place to sit and also cooled the room.  I asked everyone to help themselves to food, filled my own glass and finally sat down next to Leah.  I started to take a deep breath and stopped myself as my bra rubbed against my nipples.  They were starting to get uncomfortable; my nipples were being kept fully erect, straining against my clothing and I didn’t know if I’d be able to stand to have the clamps on all night.

“Tom Hiddleston is here.  Benedict Cumberbatch is here.  This is already the best party I’ve ever been to.” Leah said softly, so only I could hear.

“I’m sorry, if I’d known he was coming, I’d have warned you.” I said.

“No, it’s fine.  If I’d known he was going to be here, I’d just have embarrassed myself by wearing something slutty.”

We giggled together and I started to relax, as the weirdness factor diminished, slightly.

People started to mingle, chatting over the food and Ben and I made sure to keep everyone’s glasses full, at least until everyone had met and loosened up.  I scanned the room, not seeing anyone in dire need of anything.  Cass and Leah were chatting with Ben on the sofa, Charlie seemed to have made a connection with Oliver; it looked like everyone was having fun.

I went out to the terrace to smoke.

The lights were dim, the hum of traffic in the background almost silenced by the music and the sounds of our guest’s voices.  I lit a cigarette and exhaled loudly.

“Looks like you needed that.” 

I jumped, having thought myself alone.

“Victoria, I didn’t see you there.”

“I was hoping someone would come out to smoke.  If I buy my own, I can’t stop myself smoking them all.”

I walked over to where she was sitting and passed her my cigarettes and lighter.  She lit one and passed them back.

“Victoria, you and I got off on the wrong foot and I’m hoping we can fix it.  I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between Ben and his friends because of me.  He’s told me he’d gone out with a friend of yours, before he and I met.”

She sighed.

“I had such high hopes when Ben and Helena first went out, thinking how great it would be if two of my friends got together.  When he brought you to Andrew and Julia’s, I was rather taken aback.  And I felt badly for Helena.” 

“Do you think we could start over, from tonight?”  I asked, holding my hand out to her.

She looked at my hand.

 “Oliver would be thrilled; he’s very fond of you.” She said.

“It’s mutual, he’s hilarious.”  I said.

I was still holding my hand out, but she made no effort to reach for it.

 “I have to admit, Ben seems happy.”

“We are happy,” I corrected her, letting my hand fall to my side, “I’ve moved into the flat.”

“What?”

She looked stunned.

“That was fast.” she said.

“Wasn’t it?” I asked.  “I can’t quite believe it myself.”

“No, nor can I.  If you’ll excuse me, it’s gotten rather chilly.” 

She stubbed her cigarette out and went inside, passing Ben on the way.

“Have you made friends?” he asked me.

“Nope.  I made it clear that I hadn’t known about her friend and offered to bury the hatchet, but she wouldn’t even shake my hand.  I really don’t like her.”

Ben lit a cigarette and put his other arm around my shoulders.   I reached up, joining my hand with his. 

“I’m not asking you to.  Thank you for trying.”

“I had to.  I hate the idea of coming between you and your friends.”

“She’ll come around eventually.  Oliver will work on her.  Don’t let her ruin our night.”

I looked through the glass at our friends in the sitting room, Chloe, Cass and Tom with their heads thrown back in laughter at something Jem had said, Oliver and Andrew standing at the table with Leah, deep in conversation and I decided Ben was right.

 “What are you drinking?” I asked, reaching for Ben’s glass where he’d set it on the table.

“Vodka with soda.”

I took a sip, “Are you sure you remembered the vodka?  It’s really weak.”

“I’m trying to keep a clear head, for later.” he said, taking a quick glance at the door before lightly stroking the back of his hand across my breast.

It felt like an electric shock, the hair on the back of my neck standing up and I shuddered.

“Fuuuck, don’t do that.” I whispered.

“Are they hurting yet?” He asked quietly, turning us so I had my back to the flat.

“They’re starting to get…very sensitive.”

He moved close, watching over my shoulder in case anyone came outside.  His fingers brushed across me again, one side, then the other and I swallowed hard.  He placed his hand in the small of my back so our bodies were pressed tightly together and he ducked his head, nipping at my earlobe.  I leaned against him, taking shallow breaths and he suddenly straightened, the movement making my breath catch.

“Tom,” he said casually, “Join us.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”  He said.

I turned to look at him as he grinned at us, and was grateful for the low light on the terrace, hoping it would camouflage the redness in my cheeks.

“Perfect timing actually,” Ben said, “a few more minutes and there’s no telling what we would have gotten up to.”

“Speak for yourself Cumberbatch, you’re not that irresistible.”

“Jeremy’s right, you are a fucking terrible liar.” He said and kissed me on the temple.

“Jeremy was telling me about the open mike nights at his restaurant.  It sounds like fun; you should let me know the next time the two of you are going.”

“We will.  You’ve got to hear Kai sing, she’s incredible.”

“According to you, she’s perfect in every way, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to be the judge of that myself.”

“You sing, don’t you Tom?” I asked.

“I do, and I love it.  In spite of everything, I still fantasize about being a rock star.”

I giggled, “Well you better come prepared then, I’ll expect you to get up and sing something if you come with us.”

“Try and stop me.” He said.

“I need a drink,” I said, “Can I get either of you anything?”

Ben shook his head and Tom asked for vodka.  I left them and went inside to mix the drinks.  Jem joined me at the bar.

“Is everyone having a good time?” I asked.

“They’re having the time of their lives.  Did you know Tom was coming?”

“No, that was a surprise for me too.  Are Cass and Leah behaving?”

“They’re doing their best, but he is the most awful flirt.”

“I better go see how they’re coping.  Can you take this to Tom?  He’s on the terrace with Ben.”

I sat with Leah and Cass for a while, had a visit with Oliver and Andrew and watched in amazement as Charlie actually made Victoria laugh.  Chloe and Liam were the first to leave.  Chloe was due in a couple of weeks and was feeling huge and tired.  Ben and I stood at the door as they thanked him for the baby present and said goodnight.  Andrew and Julia left shortly after them, followed by Oliver and Victoria.

The rest of us sat in the sitting room, music quieter now that the group was so much smaller.  Ben opened another bottle of wine and went around the room filling glasses.  He sat next to me and listened as Jeremy and I finished the story we were telling about my surfing accident, Jem flailing his arms in the air and demonstrating my face smashing technique.  It had been hell at the time, but made for a pretty good story.  When we were done, Ben held his glass up, getting everyone’s attention.

“I wanted to thank everyone for coming tonight, and to say what a pleasure it’s been meeting you all finally.  And I wanted to say thank you to Jeremy for all your work with Kai on the food and being such an entertaining co-host.”

“I was happy to do it Ben, even if you have stolen my housemate.”

“What?” asked Leah.

I grinned, “I’ve moved in with Ben.”

My friends and Tom stared at us.  For a moment, no one said anything, and then the whole room erupted in a chorus of congratulations and questions.  And didn’t everyone want a fucking hug?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you wondered what they looked like, this is the gift Ben gives Kai before the party.
> 
> http://www.coco-de-mer.com/products/sylvie-monthule-crested-nipple-clamp/


	14. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More party, more sex and the scary parental visit kicks off...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kai and Ben are still playing with boundaries.  
> Tags have been updated...

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 14 – Family Matters

 

There had been an accident on the motorway.  A lorry had overturned in the rainy conditions and was blocking the entire road.  We were close enough to be able to see the truck and the emergency vehicles ahead and the driver talking to the police.  Traffic hadn’t moved for about half an hour and we had no idea how much longer we’d be waiting.  Ben had called ahead to let Tim and Wanda know why we’d been delayed.  I’d taken my seat belt offwhen it became clear we’d be here for a while, but now I reclined my seat and kicked my boots off, setting my feet on the dash of the car.

Ben grinned at me as I sighed with relief.

“I’m so pleased you think it’s funny Cumberbatch.” I said with a scowl, “I hope the chairs at your parent’s house are well padded.”

“The sofa is as old as I am and the kitchen chairs are made of wood,” He chuckled, leaning over and running his hand up the back of my leg to cup my bum, “But you could always bring down a pillow from the bedroom.”

“Sure I could.  And you could explain to your Mum why I need to sit on a cushion.”

I smiled as he looked at me in horror.

The previous night, after I’d told my friends that I’d moved into Ben’s flat, there had been questions.  I couldn’t blame them for being surprised.  Ben and I had only known each other for a couple of months and he had been away for more than half that time.  The party that Saturday was the first time any of my friends except Jeremy had even met him.  If it seemed fast to us, it must have seemed like the blink of an eye to them.  Even so, they were good friends and covered their shock well with a round of congratulations, followed by everyone hugging everyone else.  For me, it had been complete agony because I was still wearing the nipple clamps that Ben had put on me at the beginning of the evening.  They were beautiful and at first had seemed erotic and exciting, and only slightly uncomfortable.  I understood that the longer I wore them, the longer my nipples were kept high and erect, the more painful they’d become.  But the reality was so much worse than the idea of it.  Every time someone had hugged me, I’d had to contend not only with the possibility that they might feel them through my clothing, but also the torment of being pressed up against them.  My body was a confusion of discomfort and arousal.

Once everyone had settled down and taken their seats, I made my way to the kitchen to put the food away since no one was eating anymore.  Ben followed me.

“How bad is it?” he asked quietly.

“7 out of 10 maybe,” I answered, “I’m not sure if I can keep them on much longer.”

“Try, please.  For me?” He swept my fringe away from my eyes.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d have taken them off ages ago.  When it gets really bad, I just think about…later.”

His eyes were sparkling, dark with desire and I wondered if there was a polite way I could kick our friends out.  Now. 

 “Go back to the party.  I’ll put this stuff away and be in in a minute.” I stretched up and kissed the little mole on the side of his throat.

When I got back to the sitting room, Ben was sitting on the arm of the sofa and he put his arms around my waist as I sat between his legs.  Leah and Cass were listening to Jem talking music with Tom, while Charlie and Ben were discussing suits.  Honestly, suits.

I felt Jem looking at me and I smiled as our eyes met.  He slowly looked away from me to Ben, then back again.

“We should probably get going.” He announced. 

I didn’t know what he’d seen but I was grateful, whatever he was thinking.  I saw Cass and Leah look at each other, obviously upset that this would mean the end of their magical evening, the party where they met Ben’s friend, Tom Hiddleston.  And then Tom spoke and I laughed at their reaction.

“Does anyone else feel like going dancing?” He asked.

“Oh fuck yeah.” Said Charlie, the least subtle of my friends, as the girls nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

Ben called for a taxi and we gathered at the door, getting coats and saying goodnight.  Leah and Cass made a quick side trip to the loo to refresh their lipstick as I kissed Jem good bye, thanking him again for all his help with the party.  I helped Charlie into his jacket and Ben held the door open as Cass and Leah joined the boys on the landing.  The last to go was Tom.  He and Ben hugged, promising to see each other at the premiere of Tom’s movie in a couple of weeks and then Tom turned to me.

“So he may have been exaggerating when he said you were perfect,” he said to me, “But you’re alright.”

“Oh, high praise Mr. Hiddleston.  I’ll see you soon, either at your boring little movie thing or at Jem’s for a sing-off.”

“I look forward to it.”

Tom pulled me in tight for a friendly hug, but quickly let go with a confused frown.

“Well,” said Ben, rescuing me, “Goodnight everyone.  Thanks again for coming.” And he shut the door on them, collapsing with laughter.

“Oh my god.” I said, covering my face with my hands.

“You moaned.  You fucking moaned when he hugged you!”

 “Ben, it’s not funny.  Your friend hugged me and I _moaned._ ”

He tried to compose himself and reached for my hand, but before our fingers could meet, he burst out laughing again.

“The look on his face…”

“The look on his face?  How am I ever going to be able to look at him again?” I started to cross my arms, a natural response to being angry, but as soon as my forearms made contact with my breasts, I inhaled sharply and dropped my hands to my side.

 “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes, “But that was the last thing I expected from this evening.  I’ve been at half-mast all goddamned night just thinking about you and I can’t even imagine what it’s been like for you and then…oh, Jesus…”

He was off again, completely beside himself and I couldn’t help laughing at him, but it made me feel like my bra was on fire.

“Shut up.  You have to shut up.  And you have to get these things off me, I can’t take this anymore.”

 “Go on upstairs,” he said, trying to pull himself together, “I’ll be right up.”

I walked up the stairs, slowly, to minimize any jiggling and sat on the bed and listening to Ben moving around downstairs, turning off lights.  I was slipping out of my heels when he came through the bedroom door with a bottle of champagne in one hand and two glasses in the other.  He held the bottle up.  

“I’m practically sober.  You?”

“I’ve only had a couple of drinks.  Open it.”

He passed me the glasses and carefully popped the cork then poured the wine and put the bottle on the nightstand.  He sat next to me.

“To trust.” He said.

We clinked our glasses together and drank.

“Kiss me and then take these off, please?” I asked, standing up and pointing at my chest.

He stood and put his glass down next to the bottle.  He kissed me, gently, softly, keeping his body from touching mine.  He slowly undid all my buttons and removed my shirt.  I turned and he opened the clasp that held my bra closed and I pulled it off, letting it fall with a sigh of relief.  As I turned back to him, he looked down.

“You said you’ve never worn these before.”

“No, I haven’t.”

His fingers came up to slowly brush across the tops of my nipples, bright red and rigid.  It was like being touched with a live electrical wire and I whined.

“You need to know that it’s going to get worse.  Apparently, when they come off and all the blood rushes back in, it’s quite painful.”

“It’s quite painful already.”

“I know.”  The hairs on the back of my neck rose as he smiled.

“Hello Benedict.” I said softly.

He grabbed me, his arms around my waist and pulled me tight against his body.  His mouth came down hard on mine, his teeth sharp on my lips as my inflamed nipples pressed into his shirt.  He jammed his tongue between my lips, pushing my mouth open and his hands came between us, squeezing my breasts together, making me groan.  His mouth moved across my neck and he bit into my shoulder, dragging me back toward the bed.

When his knees met the mattress he sat.  His hands opened my trousers and he pushed them down my legs.  I stepped out of them, and his hand went between my legs, pushing the lace of my underwear between my swollen labia, rubbing it against me.  I reached for him, to undo his shirt buthe pushed my hands away.

“Leave it.  I’m staying dressed.”

I shivered at the sound of his voice, the hard edge that hadreplaced his usual gentleness.  As he put his hands on my hips and brought me closer to him, flicking his tongue over my nipple, I clenched my teeth.  The pain was exquisite and my toes curled as he sucked harder, his lips against the metal disc that surrounded my tender flesh.  His teeth dragged lightly over the hardened bud and I fisted my fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, trying to keep still.  He played with my nipples, using tongue and teeth and fingers until I was breathing hard.  I stuck my thumbs into the top of my underwear and pushed them down.  Benedict looked up at my face, one eyebrow cocked.

“You might regret being so eager to get those off.” He said, sliding one long finger between my lower lips and playing with me.

“I’ll take my chances.” I said, tilting my hips, eager for his touch.

His fingers were pushing at me, sweeping over my clitoris again and again and then inside me, grinding and twisting until I had to lean on him, my knees weak.  I could feel the orgasm building, flickering through my groin as he sucked at my aching breasts, bringing me closer to release.

“Benedict,” I breathed as his thumb pushed against my clit.

He pulled his fingers out of me and grasped me around the hips as I groaned in disappointment.  His fingers stroked my ass, kneaded my flesh as he waited for me to look at him. 

“That wasn’t very nice.” I said, opening my eyes.

 “Too bad.  I never make you wait.”

I thought for a second.

“You did once, the night of our first date.  That was the first time you bit me too.  Really bit me.”

“I remember.  Come with me.”

He stood, taking my hand and leading me to the bathroom, flicking the light on.  He lifted me to sit on the counter, stepping between my legs and looking into my eyes.

“I want to spank you.” His voice completely calm.

I frowned, so many questions suddenly running through my head.  I wondered why for starters.

The only thing I asked out loud was, “What with?” 

“My hands.  I want to feel your skin under my hands.”

I stared into his eyes and decided that right now at least, it didn’t matter why.  He needed it.  That was enough for me.

“I want what you want Benedict.”

 He reached for my hands, saw that they were shaking.

“Are you nervous?” 

“Yes.  And excited.”

“Good.”

He kissed me, his hand in my hair keeping me close as our tongues met, sparred.  He pulled back, holding my lower lip in his teeth as he looked into my eyes.  He let go.

“I’ll start slowly.” He said, his face and voice deadly serious, “But once I start I’m not going to stop until I’m satisfied.  I’ll keep going even if you say no.  I’m going to keep going until you beg me to stop Kai.  Is that clear?”

I was aware of the feel of his clothing on my skin, something that normally wouldn’t have disturbed me.  But in this situation it was different, the barrier more than physical.  Being naked when he was fully clothed made me feel vulnerable,being caught between him and the counter, I felt powerless.  And aroused.

“Yes, I understand.”

He lifted me off the counter.  His hand stroked my back, moved across my buttocks in slow circles, warming my skin and his fingers ran down to my thighs and back up, squeezing my bum.  I watched his face while he watched our reflection in the mirror.  His hands moved on my back, massaging my tense muscles and as I started to relax in his arms, my breasts came into contact with his chest.  I eased away, trying to lessen the pressure on my nipples and Benedict’s hand came down sharply on my ass.  I gasped.

“Don’t pull away from me Kai.  Don’t you dare.”

I swallowed hard as I let my upper body rest against him, my arms tightening around his waist.  I laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes, giving in to my other senses.  The sound of his breathing, the tension in his frame, the smell of his warm skin, all amplified by my heightened state.  He landed two more slaps on the same spot and waited when my hands constricted into the tight muscles of his back.  His hand sat lightly on my lower back, the heat of it contrasting with the cool air on my naked body.  I knew he hadn’t been using anything close to his full strength but even so, it had hurt and my skin prickled in excitement, in anticipation of more.

I stood on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck, “Keep going.”  

I wasn’t afraid of what might come next, I craved it, but I was still surprised by what I heard in my own voice; the yearning, the longing, clear and distinct.

He spanked me again, alternating sides, three times.  Every time his hand met my skin my aching nipples scraped against his shirt sending a spark of pain, a tingle of pleasure through me. I was breathing through my mouth, my lips on his neck, fingers curled around the collar of his shirt.  His hands stroked my buttocks.

“Look.” He nodded toward the mirror.

I looked over my shoulder, watched his hand circling over my reddened skin.  We made eye contact in the mirror.

“Turn around and brace your hands on the counter.”

I did as I was told.

“Spread your legs wider,” he instructed, “Get your ass up.”

I moved my feet apart and back until I was bent at the waist, hands gripping the edge of the cold countertop.

 “Watch me.”

I stared into the mirror as he slowly rolled his sleeves up his forearms.  His movements were controlled and deliberate.  It was such a simple act yet it sent a tremor of anxiety through me.  Reaching around from behind me, he thumbed my nipples, still straining painfully in the clamps.  He slid his fingers under the metal, loosening the rings and as he pulled them free, I ground my teeth together.  He cupped his palms over my nipples, pressing hard against me and he waited.  It only took a second for the blood to start rushing back inand I sucked air between my teeth, whimpering at the intensity of the throbbing.  He placed his hand on the small of my back as he stepped to my left side, then let it trail slowly down, stroking, squeezing my buttocks.

“Safeword?” He asked, checking in, making sure I was with him.

“Squid.”  I whispered, and he nodded.

Without warning, he raised his arm and brought his hand down onto my skin, twice in the exact same spot and I began to breathe faster.  His fingers were swirling over his hand prints and he was watching my face in the mirror.  Moving his hand between my legs, he rubbed slowly, gauging my reaction.  Then he struck me again, moving from side to side and with every blow my breasts bounced, my nipples stinging.  Unable to keep quiet, by the fourth smack my voice had changed from a surprised squeak to a groan.  He began to raise his arm.

“No, wait Benedict, please? I need a second.”

He slid two fingers inside me and my hips pushed into his hand.

“Open your eyes.” He demanded.

I wasn’t aware I’d closed them.

“Kai I told you, I’m not stopping until you beg me to,” his fingers slipping in and out of my wet slit, “I want to hear you plead for me to stop. Understand?”

Oh, that voice; glacial, determined, and seductive.  I nodded.

“Say it.”

“I understand.”

He pulled out of me, his fingers sliding wetly across my buttocks.  His hand flew through the air, the sound of it making contact almost drowned out by my shriek.  I realized how much he’d been holding back.  Until now.  He struck me again then a third time and tears started rolling down my cheeks.  My skin felt incandescent and my legs were trembling as I squirmed, wanting release; wanting him.

In the mirror, I watched his eyes moving from my face to my ass and back and his hand slapped down briskly.  Twice more he drew his arm back and connected, _hard_ , with my skin.

He’d brought me to the brink of what I could take and I shuddered and struggled to get my breath.

“Please, no more Benedict, I’m begging you.  Please stop, please.”  

He stopped immediately and turned me to face him.  He held me close, drying my tears, stroking my back until I stopped shaking.  I raised my hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead and pressed my lips to his, still breathing heavily as his tongue moved with mine, pushed deep into my mouth. 

“May I undress you now?”

He nodded.   As I undid his shirt and slid it down his arms I sank to my knees in front of him.  I unbuckled his belt and leaned into him, kissing and licking his flat stomach as I removed the rest of his clothing.  He was solid in my hand and I ran my tongue along his length, rubbed the smooth head over my lips.  Stroking him, I licked and sucked until he dug his fingers into my scalp, dragging me off him.  He pulled me to my feet.

“Turn around and spread your legs.”

I resumed my previous position, hands on the cool marble counter and he stood behind me, his hands moving over my tender ass.  He bent his knees, and I yelped as he drove his hard cock fully inside me.  I pushed onto him, arching my back, nearly purring as he thrust into me, grinding his body against mine. 

“Jesus, your skin is hot.”  His fingertips caressed my heated cheeks.

He fell across my back, his hands rough on my breasts.  My whole body was buzzing, tingling with mixed signals.   I ached, I needed, I loved. 

 I reached back and sank my fingers into his hair as his teeth scraped over my neck and I threw myself back at him, his hips slapping against my sore cheeks. 

 “I need…please…harder.”

Groaning, he slammed into me.  His breathing grew ragged, his movements erratic and he jerked, burying himself deep as he came.

With his arm under my breasts, he dragged me upright, my head falling back on his shoulder and his hand skimmed across my belly and between my legs.  Pressing his fingers in circles on my clitoris, he continued to move inside me, his dark, demanding voice in my ear.

“Let go.  Come for me.”

I turned my head and bit his neck, nipping the skin between my front teeth. He hissed with shock, pushing at me hard and my orgasm surged through me, the power of it sucking the air from my lungs.  He held me tightly until I could speak.

 “I need to lie down Ben.” I whispered.

He picked me up and carried me to the bed, setting me down gently and kneeling on the floor.  ~~~~

“You could probably use a drink,” He brushed my hair from my face, “And I need a smoke.”

He filled a glass with champagne, passed it to me and said, “I’ll be right back.”

I crawled under the covers and rolling onto my side, propped a couple of pillows under my arm.  When he returned with the cigarettes he joined me and we lay facing each other and smoking.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his fingers tracing my jaw.

“I’m sore.  You?”

“Exhausted.  And staggered that you actually let me do that to you.”

“When have I ever said no to you?”

“Saying you’re not in the mood is hardly the same as saying, no thanks, I’d rather you didn’t hit me tonight.”

The look on his face made me chuckle, and he grinned back at me, but quickly turned serious again.

“You didn’t even ask me why.” He frowned.

“In the moment Ben, it didn’t matter to me why.  I knew you’d stop if I asked you to.  I knew you’d stop if I didn’t like it.  I did wonder though.  I mean, obviously you enjoyed it, got off on it.  But, were you punishing me for something?”

“Oh fuck no, it was nothing like that.  Well, not at first anyway,” he admitted.  “I’ve been thinking about it for ages, since that day you let me tie you to the bed.  It was the idea of it, your skin turning red; the way your ass would move when I spanked you.  I kept picturing you bent over like that…,” he smiled, “so I did some research.”

“You watched some porn.”  I clarified, stubbing out my cigarette.

“I may have.” He laughed, “But I also found some good websites, beginner’s guides sorts of things.  I figured I’d better know what I was doing so I didn’t do anything stupid and end up injuring you.”

“You said it wasn’t a punishment, at first?”

“I didn’t think it was until you pulled away from me.  I couldn’t let you do that.  And then when you asked me to wait.  That wasn’t our agreement.  So at that point, yes, I guess I was punishing you.”

He put his cigarette out and rolled over to put the ashtray on the table.

“You felt I was what?  Disobeying you?” I asked as he turned back to me.

“Yes and I couldn’t allow that.  When I go to that place in my mind, I expect you to do what I tell you to.  The excitement for me -the thrill - is that you‘re letting me do something that we both know is going to be painful because you trust me.  You trust me to know what you need, how far to go, how to give you pain and to make it feel good.  When you hesitated, it made me feel as though you’d forgotten that.  I had to remind you so it didn’t happen again.”

“You do realize that I’m getting hot just talking about this?  About how you think when you’re like that.”

 “You’re not?”

“I am.  But I’m tired and my ass hurts and my boobs are killing me.” I grinned. 

“And we have to be up early.”

“Right, so we should probably just go to sleep.”

I got up to go to the loo.  I found the gold nipple clamps on the bathroom counter and put them away in my jewelry box and then I brushed my teeth and went back to bed. 

As I climbed under the duvet, Ben pulled me close.  He was lying on his back and I put my arm over his waist, nestling against his body.  He kissed me on the forehead, his fingers tickling my back and I sighed as I relaxed into his arms.

‘Kai?”

“Mm hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me Ben.  You’re not the only one getting something they need.”

I lifted my head from his chest and kissed him goodnight. 

In the morning, Ben read the newspaper while I packed my bag.  I carried it downstairs and dropped it next to his by the front door.

“Did you bring something warm to wear?  It’s an old house and it’s always cold.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned that before I’d finished packing?”

He snorted, “It’s not as though adding one jumper is going to mess up your system.  I’ve seen how you pack.”

I went back upstairs and grabbed a couple of pairs of warmer socks and another sweater.  I stuffed them into my bag and I went and stood beside Ben at the table, taking a sip from his coffee cup.

“You make a face every time.  You know I take sugar in mine.” 

“I know, but I keep hoping it’ll get less disgusting.”

 “Ready to go?” He asked, lightly stroking my bum.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Ben got up and put his cup in the sink.  We put on our jackets and he carried our bags down to the car so I could bring the presents I’d gotten for his parents.  I’d picked up a good bottle of scotch for Tim and a box of chocolates for Wanda.  I’d asked Ben what kind of flowers she liked, but ended up having to choose for myself when he very unhelpfully answered, ‘Uh, pink ones?’  Sunflowers were always cheerful, so I’d gotten a mixed bunch in shades of golden yellow and deep red.  It seemed wasteful to leave the orchids and gerberas that my friends had brought to the party, so I mixed them in with the sunflowers, creating a huge bouquet of fall colours.  I put Tim’s bottle and Wanda’s gifts on top of our bags in the boot.  I stood beside the car and looked up at Ben as he came around to open my door.

I took the lapels of his jacket in my hands, “I love you.”

“I know you do.  I love you too.” He kissed the end of my nose.

“I’m just making sure you know, in case I accidentally break something valuable or tell one of your parents to fuck off.”

“Kai,” he laughed, “quit stalling and get in the car.”

An hour later, we were still stuck on the motorway, waiting for the accident to be cleared. 

“I’m going to get my book.”

 I pulled my jacket over my head to shield myself from the rain and ran to the back of the car.  I got my book from my bag and was about to close the lid of the trunk when I saw the chocolates and my stomach growled.  I got back into my seat, gingerly, and started to open the box.

“I thought those were for Mum.”

“There are still the flowers and I’m really hungry.  I skipped breakfast and who knows how long we’re going to be stuck waiting.  Would you like one?  They’re salted caramels.”

I held the box under his nose.  After a moment he looked over to me.

“You just want an accomplice so you don’t feel guilty.”

“That’s right, and so you don’t rat me out.  Have one.” 

“No thank you.”

I took a chocolate from the box and smelled it, sighing hugely.  He grinned, but he wouldn’t look at me, so I bit a piece off and held the rest out to him.

“Come on.  You know you want it.”

“Willpower.  Ever heard of it?”

“Yes.  It’s overrated, but suit yourself.” I said and ate the rest of it. 

I took another from the box.

“You’re not even tempted?”

“Not in the slightest.”

I put the chocolate between my front teeth and spoke around it.

“Are you sure?”

He turned his head to see why I was talking funny.

 “Oh for Christ’s sake,” his hand went around the back of my neck, “Come here.”

His lips covered mine and I bit through the caramel.  He leaned back into his seat, chewing.

“Happy now?” He asked.

“Yup.  Would you like another?” I offered, opening a shirt button and tucking a piece of candy into the top of my bra.

“You’re evil,” He said, “An evil temptress.”

He bent over and his tongue snaked between my boobs, wrapping around the caramel.  There was a sharp tap on the driver’s window.  Ben bolted upright as, laughing, I pulled my shirt closed.  There was a police officer at the side of the car and he pointed ahead to where the road had been cleared.

 “Jesus.  That was embarrassing.”  He started the car and slowly drove forward.

“It could have been worse.  I was planning to put the next one quite a bit lower.”

“Fix your seat and put your belt on.”

I punched the memory button and when my seat had finished adjusting itself, I clipped my seatbelt on.

 “Here,” Ben passed me his phone, “Call Mum and tell her the road’s opened.” 

I couldn’t tell if he was actually annoyed or if he’d just forgotten to say ‘please’, or if I was being overly sensitive, imagining that he was giving me orders when he was just concentrating on navigating around the accident scene.   I spoke briefly with Wanda to let her know we’d be arriving in about an hour and hung up.  Ben pulled his jacket from behind his back and passed it to me.

“Could you put my phone in the pocket and stick that behind my seat?”

He sounded like himself again and the moment passed.  I switched the radio on and relaxed into my seat.  I let myself enjoy the drive, these last minutes alone with Ben, watching the way his elegant hands moved on the steering wheel, grinning to myself as he looked into the rain, squinting through his glasses.  It made me wonder what he was going to look like as an older man, his hair turning grey; the laugh lines that I loved so much deepening into creases.  Picturing it made me smile, because I knew I’d be there to see it happen.  Glancing at me, he asked why I was smiling, so I told him. 

He brought my hand to his lips, sucking one of my fingers into his mouth.  I watched his lips slide down, felt his tongue tickling my skin.

“It’s a good thing you’re driving, not me.”

“If you were driving, we’d probably be there by now.”

All too soon Ben was taking our exit off the motorway.  I kept trying to reassure myself that there was no reason to be nervous.  But things had changed considerably since I’d first met Tim and Wanda.  Ben and I were living together, going to look at a house and I was completely, head over heels in love with their son.  There was so much more at stake.

We drove slowly up the drive to the front of the cottageand I took a deep breath.  Ben cut the engine and turned to me.

“Just be yourself Kai.”

“That’s exactly what Jem said.”

“See?  The two men who love you most agree.  Don’t worry, the first thing Dad will do is offer you a drink.  You can stay slightly drunk all day today and tomorrow if it helps.”

I laughed and we got out of the car.  Ben passed me the scotch and flowers and grabbed our bags.  We walked to the front door, which opened before we could knock.  Ben gave his Mum a kiss and we stepped inside.  

“Hello Kai, it’s very nice to see you again; we were so pleased when Ben told us you were coming along.”

The house was small and informal and absolutely chock-a-block with books and knick-knacks covering every surface.  In spite of the low ceilings, the windows were large and the room was bright, even with the drizzle outside.  Its well lived-in hominess contrasted with the spare, masculine feel of Ben’s place but still, I felt oddly comfortable here already.

“Come in you two, and Ben, take your bags upstairs so we’re not falling over them.  Kai, let’s go into the kitchen so I can get these lovely flowers in water.”

“Shoes on or off Wanda?”

“Unless you’ve got slippers, leave them on.  It’s always bloody freezing in here.”

Ben took my jacket and hung it on one of a row of pegs behind the door and then headed up the stairs while I followed Wanda through to the next room.  It smelled of roasting chicken and there was a cutting board on the table with a pile of carrots sitting on it.

“TIM!”  Wanda shouted, rapping her knuckles on the window over the sink, “THEY’RE HERE.  I’ll find a vase, go ahead and sit down.”

As I set the bottle of scotch on the table, Ben came in from the sitting room and Tim walked into the kitchen from outside.  They hugged, thumping each other on the back and as they grinned in greeting, I could see the resemblance, the matching laugh lines around their eyes. 

“Kai, lovely to see you again,” Tim went to the sink to wash the dirt from his hands, “Now, who needs a drink?”

Ben caught my eye and winked at me. Wanda trimmed the flowers and arranged them in a tall ceramic vase, placing them in the centre of the table.

“Those are simply beautiful, such a pretty combination of colours.  Look Tim.”

“Very nice.  Did you grow them yourself?”

“No, they’re store bought I’m afraid.  I haven’t been spending much time with my hands in the dirt lately so I’m really looking forward to seeing what you’ve got going on outside.”

“Ben, why don’t you show Kai around while your Dad makes us a drink?”

Taking my hand, Ben led me back through the sitting room to the staircase and up, past framed photos of him at every age, bald baby to stick legs in school uniforms to shots of him onstage in the years that followed.

“Good lord, it’s the Great Wall of Benedict.  Is there a statue of you in the garden too?”

“Shut up, it’s not my fault I was a perfect child.”

He pulled me along with him, pointing down the short hallway.

“That’s Mum and Dad’s room down at the end and the loo is right there.  This is our room.”

I stepped through the doorway and started to giggle.

“It’s very, um, floral, isn’t it?”

“Mum redecorated when I moved out for good.  It wasn’t like this when I lived here, I assure you.”

“I should hope not.  You can go back down.  I’m just going to get a sweater and go to the bathroom.”

I put a sweater on and took off my shoes, pulling on a second pair of socks.  I used the bathroom and went back downstairs.  I stood for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, listening to the voices coming from the kitchen, smiling at the way they all talked over each other.  As I walked into the kitchen, Tim stood and passed me an enormous glass of gin with tonic.  I was a bit surprised when he put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a little squeeze.

“Thank you for the bottle of scotch.  Did Ben tell you which one I like?”

“No, I picked one I liked and hoped for the best, but I’m glad it’s a hit.  Can I help with anything Wanda?”

“No, I’ve got everything under control for now,” she said, cutting carrots and dropping them into a saucepan, “Sit down and relax.”

Without thinking, I dropped onto the hard wooden chair and saw Tim’s head turn as I took a quick breath.

“Are you alright?”

I couldn’t even look at Ben as he answered for me.

“She overdid it at the gym and she’s a bit sore.”

Impressive.  I wouldn’t have answered so smoothly.  Ben had been telling his parents about his upcoming projects when I’d come in and he picked up where he’d left off.

“So when the run is finished, I have a short break, then we shoot in Prague for about a month.”

“I’m just glad that you’ll be around for Christmas this year.  You must be happy that he’ll be home for a while Kai.  I suppose it makes things simpler with your schedule as well?”

 “Actually,” I said, “I have no idea what kind of schedule I’m going to have.”

I explained about losing my job and what was happening with my visa.

“That’s awful and such terrible timing for the two of you.  What happens if you don’t find work in time?” Wanda asked.

“I get deported, sent back to Canada.”

“That is not going to happen,” said Ben, “We’re working on other alternatives.  If Kai were to start her own business for example, she could get a different kind of visa.”

“Ben’s business manager found me an immigration attorney, and he’s been extremely helpful.  I’m not giving up.  They’ll have to drag me onto an airplane kicking and screaming.”

They chuckled, but Tim asked, “You don’t own your house here, do you?  I mean, what do they do if you own property?”

Ben reached for my hand, threading our fingers together.

“Actually, Kai was living with a friend, but now she’s living with me.”

That got pretty much the reaction I’d been expecting.  Stunned silence.  I watched their faces as they tried to process what Ben had said.  For once, I kept quiet.  They weren’t my parents and this wasn’t my argument to make.  Tim was the first to recover his voice.

“My goodness, that’s rather quick.”

“I know it seems that way to everyone else Dad, but it feels right to us.”

I was hoping he wouldn’t mention the house we were going to look at, that he’d give them time to get used to the idea of us living together first.  Fortunately, Tim spoke again before Ben could bring it up.

“You’re not children, either of you.  I suppose you know what you’re doing.”

Ben looked at Wanda, holding her gaze as she thought carefully before speaking.

 “I’m not sure what to think.  As your father said, you’re not a child.  But for heaven’s sake, what’s the rush?  You’re home for a few months now; why not take that time and get to know each other better?”

“I already know everything I need to know Mum.  Kai challenges me; she doesn’t let me get away with a fucking thing.  She’s never afraid to ask tough questions and push me for answers and I know myself better because of her.  She’s kind and generous and brave and I’ve never met anyone who makes me laugh the way she does.” He squeezed my hand, “I hate being away from her; it makes me sick to my stomach when I have to leave her for work.  When I come home, I want her there.  I need to know that she’ll be there when I get back.  I love her and I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her.” 

I knew he loved me.  But hearing him tell his parents why he did, how much he did, was completely different from when he told me.  It was the most amazing thing I’d ever heard and I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face.

“Well.  That’s us told.” said Tim, grinning at Wanda.

“My god, it certainly is.  You’re in love and you’re happy.  That’s all a mother wants for her children.  If you’re certain, that’s all I need to know.”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

 “Then I’ll not say another word to you about it Ben.”

Wanda looked at me for a long moment before getting up from the table and I understood that she might not bring it up again with him, but she was definitely going to be talking to me.  She went to the oven to check on supper.

“Does anyone else need a refill?”

“Oh Christ yes, Dad.” Ben passed him our empty glasses.

Wanda was working at the stove so when Tim came back with the drinks, I asked him about his garden, hoping to lighten the mood.  We chatted about late summer flowers and getting ready to put the garden to bed for the winter and he promised to show me around the next day.  Whether they were really alright with everything Ben had told them, I had no way of knowing, but nothing they said was going to change my mind or his. 

Supper was relaxed and companionable.  Ben talked about the play he’d be doing and his parents asked the kinds of questions that only other actors would ask, about the script, the director.  After we ate, Wanda and Tim sent us to the sitting room, refusing our help with the dishes.

Curling up next to Ben on the sofa I said, “That went better than I’d expected.”

“Did it?”

“I expected at least some yelling.  That’s what would probably have happened if we were at my parent’s house.  My mother’s pretty vocal.”

“I’d never have guessed.” he said, “Mum’s going to corner you at some point.”

“I know; I could see it on her face.  I can’t blame her for wanting to protect you.  I’ll tell her the truth, that’s all I can do.”

“Yes, it is.  It’s not as though you could lie convincingly anyway.  Your face turns red and your voice goes up an octave.”

“Unlike certain actors I could mention.  Overdid it at the gym?”

“That was good, wasn’t it?”

We were still laughing together when his parents came in.  We spent a quiet evening drinking scotch and telling stories about our families, our childhoods.  Ben told me that until the trouble with my visa, he’d been hoping to take me to Greece for my birthday.  I hadn’t realized how much time he’d spent there as a boy.  They talked about the village they stayed in and it sounded magical; small and notoverrun with tourists.  He promised we’d visit once I got things sorted and could travel again.  Tim went up to bed first, and Wanda soon followed.  Ben and I sat up a bit longer, until I started yawning.

“We should go to bed; we didn’t get much sleep last night.  And Mum and Dad get up early.”

Ben let me have the loo first, heading down the hall himself after I returned to the bedroom.  I got changed and climbed into bed, shivering in the cold sheets.  I looked around, wondering what this room had looked like when he’d lived here, imagining a younger him, sitting at the desk, reading one of the dozens of books that filled the case along the wall.  He returned, shut the door behind him and pulled his shirt over his head, getting into bed in just his boxers.  The springs under the mattress squeaked in protest. 

He bent across me for a kiss, long and slow, his hand moving under the bed clothes, up my belly to cup my breast.

“Cut it out.” I whispered.

“No.  Take this off.”

With both hands, he worked my t-shirt up my body.  As I raised my arms so he could pull it over my head, the bed creaked loudly.

“Ben.” I warned.

“What?”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?  They’re asleep.”

“They’re 20 feet away and the bed squeaks.”

“They won’t even hear it.”

“Really?  Listen.”  I took a deep breath and the springs responded with a creak, “And that’s just me breathing.  We’re not exactly quiet, you and I.”

“I’m sure we can be.  We just need to practice.” He moved his hand to my thigh.

“Ben,” I warned, “this is a bad idea.”

“This is a great idea.”  And his hand was between my legs.

He moved his fingers slowly over my folds, his mouth first on mine, then trailing down my neck.  I softened into his hand, his touch messing with my logic.  Kissing across my chest, he put his lips on my nipple and it was so sensitive that I groaned.

“Ssh.”

“I can’t help it, I’m still sore from last night.”

He ran his finger over my bottom lip and pushed it into my mouth.  I sucked on itas he ducked his head, gently taking my nipple between his lips.  I bit lightly and he pressed a second finger between my teeth.  I could feel myself getting wet as Ben pushed into me, fingers sliding along my clitoris, rubbing against my lips, top and bottom, my hips starting to move in response. 

I froze as the bed squealed and I took his hand in mine, releasing his fingers from my mouth.

“Ben, seriously, I don’t think I can do this.  Every time the bed makes a sound, I lose my concentration.”

“Relax my love, let me touch you.”  He hadn’t actually stopped, his hand still roaming between my thighs.

“But the noise…”

“Kai, let me.  I need this.”

 “How am I supposed to say no to that?” I asked quietly, looking into his eyes, ocean coloured in the low light of the bedside lamp.

“You’re not.”

“And you had the cheek to say I’m evil?”

“You are, but I like it,” He grinned wolfishly, “Now stop worrying, they won’t hear a thing.  I’ll keep you quiet.”

“How?”

Knowing he’d won, he kept his eyes locked on mine and cautiously moved across the bed.  He slid his leg over me and gradually let his weight press me down into the mattress.   His hand was firmly wedged against my pussy as he wrapped his leg around me, pushing my thighs together, his chest half covering mine.

“There,” he whispered, “if you can’t move, you can’t make the bed squeak.”

“How are we going to make love if I can’t move?”

With his elbow near my head, he trailed his fingers slowly across my lips.

“We’re not.  I remember you telling me once that it was powerful and exciting for you to make me lose control without expecting anything in return.You said it was as good as having an orgasm to make that happen for me.  So I’m going to hold you down; I’m going make you lose control and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.

 “Oh.”

He pushed two fingers between my teeth and I closed my lips around them.

“I love your mouth,” he whispered, “keep sucking.”

Goosebumps rose on my skin and I sucked hard on his fingers, his other hand moving again on my clitoris.  I closed my eyes when he bent across me, his pointed tongue tracing underneath my breast. My back started to lift from the bed and he leaned on me, holding me down with his weight as his lips played over my skin.  He was firm and gentle, warm and solid, but relentless. His fingers never stopped moving in the wetness between my legs, stroking and caressing, sliding from my clit to my opening, teasing.  Every time my hips would start to lift, his leg would squeeze mine, holding me securely and his fingers in my mouth kept me from crying out when he finally penetrated me.  His fingers moved easily inside my swollen heat, and I moaned into his hand, my breathing fast and unsteady. 

He lifted his head from my breast, lightly holding the rigid tip between his teeth, tonguing it.  I could feel his erection pressing into my hip and tried to move against him, to give something back, but he tightened his grip on me.

“Don’t,” he murmured, “Tonight is for you.”

He slipped his fingers from my lips and worked his arm behind my neck pulling our bodies even more tightly together, covering my mouth with his, his tongue dancing on mine. Inside me his fingers moved faster, deeper, driving fiercely toward the release he wanted for me.  I had one arm trapped beneath him and I raised the other, dragging my fingers through his hair, our lips locked together capturing my cries.

Desperate to move, I dug my fingers into his scalp, tried to raise my hips, to make him give me more of what I so badly needed.  He knew, he felt it and his hand shifted, his thumb bearing down on my clit.  My whole body went rigid, muscles straining as he held me fast, and I groaned into his mouth, convulsing on his fingers, lifting him with me as I arched in ecstasy.

Ben slid his leg off mine, setting me free, and we kissed breathlessly, his hand circling slowly over my stomach.  I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to.  I felt as though my bones had dissolved.

 “Jesus, that was incredible.” He said softly. 

“Yes it was.” ~~~~

“I have to get up Kai, just for a minute.”

“I’m not ready,” I sighed. “Stay with me.”

“I’ll be right back.  I’m sorry, I have to change.  I came in my pants.” He admitted gleefully.

 “You did not!”

“Yes I did.” He gave me a quick peck on the nose and rolled out of bed.

Grabbing underwear from his bag, he quietly opened the door and made his way down the hall to the loo.  I lay in bed, grinning to myself as I heard water running, then the door opened and he was back.  The bedsprings squealed as he got comfortable on his back and I put my head on his chest, craving the warmth of his body. 

“You were right,” he said, continuing from where we’d left off, “that was exciting.”

 “Apparently,” I chuckled.

He snorted, “I just realized the last time that happened to me, was probably in this room as well.”

We laughed together, happy and relaxed.  He played with my hair while we quietly talked, making plans for the next day when I heard a door open and footsteps in the hall.  Someone had gone into the bathroom.

“If we woke them up, it was all your fault,” I said, “I didn’t make a sound when I came.”

“Yes you bloody did.  I heard you loud and clear.”

“You’re imagining things.  That wasn’t me.”

“They didn’t hear us.  Dad always gets up at night to pee.”

The toilet flushed and water ran for a moment, then the footsteps went back down the hall.

“If either one of them says anything tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”

 


	15. Down to Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farms, houses, walks in the woods.  
> It's all getting rather domestic...the good news is, they still can't keep their hands off each other, so feel free to skip to those bits if you like!

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 15 – Down to Earth

 

I dressed quickly, pulling the cold denim up my legs, putting a thick sweater on over my shirt and wearing two pairs of socks.  I could hear Ben and Tim talking in the kitchen as I headed down the stairs.  They were sitting at the table, a newspaper spread out around them and they looked up as I came into the only room in the house that wasn’t freezing.

“Good morning,” I said, stifling a yawn.

Ben got up and kissed me, “Good morning.  Go ahead and sit; I’ll make you some coffee.”

I joined Tim at the tablewhile Ben put the kettle on.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you Tim.  Where’s Wanda?”

Ben had his back to me; his shoulders started to shake and Tim was grinning.

“She’s just run down the road to get eggs from the neighbour.  There was an incident…”

“What happened?”

“Dad surprised her and she dropped a whole dozen on the floor.”

“Oh my god, what a mess!”

“She didn’t stay to clean it up, she left that to me.  Entirely my own fault.”

“I was sitting at the table,” explained Ben with a huge grin on his face, “Mum didn’t hear Dad come into the kitchen, so when he patted her on the bum, she thought it was me.”

 “She jumped like a scalded cat,” Tim said, “I had no idea she still had reflexes like that.  Remarkable.”

We were all laughing when Wanda came in carrying a basket.

“Oh yes, bloody hilarious.  Waste of a dozen perfectly good eggs.” Wanda glared at her husband.

Ben carried the coffee pot to the table, getting out of his Mum’s way as she set about making breakfast.

 “Tim, were you planning to work in the garden today?”  

“I was,” Tim answered, “I need to turn over the large bed in back and get it ready for putting in the spring bulbs, and the front beds along the path need clearing out as well.  Many hands make light work, so if you’re offering...”

“I’d love to get out there and help.  I do miss working outside.  Ben and I were going to go for a walk, but we can do that later this afternoon.  If that’s O.K. with you?” I confirmed with Ben.

He nodded, “Of course.  I’ve got to get some work done on my script anyway; we start rehearsals in a few days.  I can do that while you work with Dad.”

Wanda made a huge breakfast of scrambled eggs, an enormous pile of sausages and thick slices of toast made from bread baked by her neighbours down the road.

“Those are the same people who have the chickens?” I asked.

“Yes, they’re a going concern.  They have a farm stand at the end of the drive and they sell eggs, the bread, preserves.  We also buy most of our meat from them, besides the chickens, they have cows and their lamb is wonderful.”

“Are they close enough to walk to?  I wonder if they’d mind if I took a look at their operation.  That’s exactly the sort of thing I’d love to do.  One day…” I trailed off; still hesitant to bring up the house we were going to look at.

Wanda explained that we could take a path through the field across the road and be there in less than half an hour.  She offered to call ahead and see if anyone might be free to talk with me.

After breakfast, I put on my raincoat and went out to the car to get my boots from the trunk.  I met Tim at the back of the house and he passed me a pair of work gloves before walking me around to show me what needed doing.  I decided that I’d rather turn over the large bed in back than dig out the spent flowers from the front and Tim seemed pleased to let me do the heavy work while he took the wheelbarrow to the other side of the house.  As I twisted my hair into a knot on the top of my head I saw Ben looking out the kitchen window and I waved cheerfully at him before picking up the shovel, thrilled to be back in my element.

I worked my way backward across the large patch of earth, turning shovel after shovel and loosening the soil.  It wasn’t long before even with the light rain, I had to take my coat off and then eventually, my sweater, tying it around my waist.  I sang under my breath, losing myself in the rhythm of the work, enjoying the burn in my shoulders and back as I lifted and turned the wet, heavy dirt.  I hadn’t realized how much I’d been missing this, the feeling of being productive, of having a purpose.  It wasn’t only the constant worry of being out of a job - money, my visa – there was more to it.  I needed to feel as though I was contributing in some way, not just to our living expenses, but in general.  I needed to work. 

It took a few hours but I finally turned the last clod.   I jammed the shovel into the soil and leaned on it, breathing heavily and wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my wrist.

“You look happy.”

Ben was standing behind me, offering me a glass of water. 

“Thanks,” I took the glass and drank appreciatively, “I am.  I’ve been unemployed for too long.”

“You’ve been unemployed for three weeks,” he grinned, “I’ve had colds that have lasted longer than that.”

“You have jobs booked through the next two and a half years and you’re giving me flak about wanting to be working?  You’ve got some nerve.”  I laughed.

“You have dirt on your face.  You look exactly like you did the day we met.”

He put his fingers under my chin and tilted my face up for a kiss but something in my expression brought him up short.

“Kai, what’s the matter?”

I shook my head, smiling to let him know I was alright.

 “I can’t believe how much has happened since that day.  Everything has changed so much; I’m living a completely different life to the one I had before and thinking about it makes me a bit…not sad,” I assured him, “just, emotional.”

 “It’s no wonder.  Moving house and losing your job, the Immigration bullshit…it’s stressful.  It’s been a complete upheaval for you.  I know I’m the reason for all of it and I’m sorry that I’ve put you in this position.”

“Yes, it is stressful.  But if I get you in exchange, it’s worth it.” I ran my finger lightly along his jaw, “You’re the only thing keeping me sane right now.”

He hugged me tightly and I relaxed into him.  I let myself take in his strength and accept the security and assurance I felt in his arms.

Tim came around the corner pushing the wheelbarrow, now overflowing with garden debris.

“Son, get your hands off the help.”

I burst out laughing. 

“At least until she’s got her work done.” An impish grin on his face.

“Actually Tim, I’m finished.  Unless you’d like me to get the bulbs in for you?”

 “It would have taken me all day to get that done.  God I miss being young.” Tim sighed.

“Are you kidding?  I know people half your age who couldn’t keep up with a garden this size.”

“That’s very kind of you to say.  I’ll put the bulbs in tomorrow, so you’re off the hook.  I’m going to dump this lot in the compost and go in for lunch.  I need a drink.”

After we’d both washed up and I’d changed my clothes, we had lunch.  Wanda had called and arranged for me to meet with Clarence who, along with his wife ran the farm where she’d gotten the eggs.  After we ate, Ben and I headed out, holding hands as we walked the path through the fields.

“Do you know these people?”

“Not really.  I’ve met them both, but only in passing, picking things up for Mum.  I’ve never paid attention to the farm really.  It never occurred to me that I might be looking at my future.” He squeezed my hand.

“I love you for even considering it, even if I do have trouble picturing you driving a tractor or castrating lambs.”

He stopped dead, turning to look at me.

“Doing what?”

“Castrating lambs,” I repeated cheerfully, “You can’t leave them intact forever.  Rams are a pain in the ass to deal with.”

“And you have to do that?  You can’t – hire someone or..?”

“Sure you can.  If you like throwing money away on something you can do yourself.”

“And you could do that?  Actually, cut or, Jesus, whatever it is you do?”

I grinned at his squeamishness, “Yes.  I have done it.  Three years of 4H club when I was in high school, and a couple of summers working on a farm.”

He shook his head and resumed walking.

“I think it’s a good thing we’re doing this today.  Clearly I have no idea what’s actually involved in this sort of life.”

“You don’t have to Ben.  This is my dream.  You never have to get your hands dirty if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to.  If this is your dream, if this is what you’re going to do with your life, I want to understand it.  I want to be a part of it.”

“You can start with the easy stuff.  You can be my taste tester in the kitchen, collect the eggs in the morning.”

Reaching the fence line of the field we climbed over the stile into the farmyard.  There was a man walking across the yard toward us; tall and powerfully built, in his mid-fifties, he had an enormous blond beard and looked like a Viking.

“Ben, nice to see you again,” he wiped his hand on the leg of his trousers and held it out for us to shake, “And you must be Kai.  Wanda says you’re interested in how we do things ‘round here.  I’m Clarence.”

I shook his hand and told him how much I appreciated his willingness to show us around.  He asked what I wanted to see first, the animals or the food market side of things.  Since we were already outside and dressed for the weather, I asked to see the livestock.  With great patience, he walked us around the farm, through all three barns.  He showed us the cattle, Holsteins and Jerseys mostly, and pointed out the fields where the sheep lived in all but the worst weather.  Walking back toward the house, he ran through the number of farmhands he had, both permanent and seasonal, explaining that they also grew most of their own hay.  He wrapped up the tour of the outside with the chickens.  I grinned at the look on Ben’s face as the aroma of chicken shit wafted over us.  It wasn’t pleasant, but you could get used to it.  The vegetable gardens were behind the house, so Clarence took us to meet his wife and get a cup of tea to warm up before she showed us her side of the business.

Ardith looked like she’d been chosen as Clarence’s wife by a casting agent.  She was nearly as tall as he, sturdily built with long brown hair in a braid down her back.  We sat at a large trestle table in the kitchen of the old farmhouse drinking tea and hearing about the food production that she managed.  One of the outbuildings had been converted into an industrial kitchen to comply with food safety laws and she had two full time staff that worked with her on the gardens and helped with the canning and baking.

Ardith and Clarence were the nicest people and endlessly patient as I peppered them with questions.  When I decided we’d taken up enough of their day, Ben and I went to the door and started putting on our coats and boots.

“I can’t thank you enough taking the time to talk with us.  I’m sure you had more than enough to do today without me and my questions.”

“We were happy to do it.  There are few enough young people willing to get into this kind of life, especially on this scale.  It’s very hard work, and it never ends, you’re never finished.” Said Clarence, “But it’s also rewarding, to be self-sufficient, to eat what you produce and sell the rest to keep the farm going.  It’s what my family has done for generations and if you have more questions, need help or advice, we’d be pleased to provide it.  Call ‘round any time.”

I thanked them again and Ben and I headed back toward his parent’s house.  He was quiet as we walked the path through the field in the evening dusk.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“That it seems like an enormous amount of work and an incredibly difficult way to make a living.  Now that you’ve seen it from their side, is it still what you want to do?” 

“Ben,” I stepped in front of him and stopped, “now that I’ve seen it, I want it more than ever.  I knew it would be hard work; I’ve never romanticized it as anything else.  They’ve been doing it forever though.  I’d have to start on a much smaller scale and work toward what they have.  But if you’re having doubts I want to know that now, before we go look at that property tomorrow, before I go any further down this road.  Because if you don’t think you could live that way when you’re at home, we need to talk about it.”

“I don’t know Kai.  I want you to be doing something you love, of course I do.  But honestly, that kind of life is so outside my sphere, so different from anything I would have chosen for myself.  The idea is going to take some getting used to.  I need to think about it, to let it all sink in for a bit.  Is that O.K?”

“Of course it is.  I don’t want to force you into anything.  I want to do this, but if you’re going to be miserable, it’s not worth it.  There are other things I can do, gardening, landscaping.  Compromise, remember?”

“I think we should still go and look at that house.  At least we’d get an idea what’s out there, how much might need to be done to turn it into something like you envision.”

“Absolutely.  Besides, you and I might have very different ideas of what we’re looking for in a house too, and now is the time to find that out.”

He raised our hands to his mouth and kissed my knuckles, “We’ll find something that works for us both.  There’s no hurry, we’ll keep looking until we find exactly the right thing.  It’s just going to take me some time to wrap my head around the realities of living on a farm.”

As we made our way back, I noticed a copse of alder off to our left.  I looked around, and couldn’t see anyone nearby, only a few houses in the distance.  I smiled to myself as I led Ben off the trail, heading for the trees.

“Where are you going?  The road is that way.” He pointed.

“I know exactly where the road is, come with me City Mouse.”

“It’s getting dark and Mum will be making supper.  Where are you taking me?”

“Ben, you ask too many questions,” I looked at him over my shoulder, “Trust me.” 

I led him into the seclusion of the trees, away from the trail and out of view in case anyone else was walking that way.  I pushed him up against a tree, pressing my hips into his as he put his arms around me. With one hand on the nape of his neck I pulled him in, kissing him and unbuttoning his coat.  I put my arms around his waist, warming my hands on his back and he jumped as my cool fingers slipped inside his shirt.

 “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

Untucking his shirt, I grinned up at him, “Are you thinking I’m going blow you?  Because that’s what I’m thinking.”

He stared into my eyes for a long moment, his fingers clenching in the small of my back.

“Tell me again,” he said, “say the words.”

I gently nudged his legs apart with my knee and stepped between them, his hands on my back urging me closer.  I kissed his throat, his head falling back as I ran my tongue up to his earlobe and lightly bit it.  As my hands worked on his belt, I spoke softly into his ear.

“I’m going get on my knees and suck your cock.  I want to feel you slide between my lips; I want to taste you.  I’m going to take you in my mouth and make you come.  And Ben?  I want to hear you when you do.” I could feel him hardening against my hand as I rubbed him through his jeans.

“Jesus Christ.”

Yanking his coat off, he dropped it on the ground for me with such speed that I nearly laughed.  He leaned back against the tree as I knelt and unzipped him, pulling his clothing down enough that I could get him in my hands.  Keeping my eyes on his, I stroked and teased him, bringing him close to my open mouth so he could feel my breath, testing his restraint.  Licking the pad of my thumb, I ran it over the head of his penis, needing to build his anticipation.  I darted my tongue out and wetted my thumb again, his eyes following every move.  He was solid, hot in my hands as I threaded my fingers together, pulling him hard.  I waited, watched.   

His eyes flickered, a small frown fleeting across his face and his frustrated growl told me he wouldn’t remain passive much longer.  I took him deeply into my mouth, rewarding him for his patience.  He sighed loudly and reached for me, his fingers tangling in my hair, gripping firmly, almost painfully.  Pulling back I sucked hard then eased the pressure as he pushed forward, repeating the pattern until he was panting.  I wriggled closer and moved my hands to his ass, making him move with the rhythm I wanted.  I drew him in so that my cheeks hollowed, tightened my lips around him, dragging my tongue along his shaft; I let him feel my teeth and he groaned.  His back came off the tree, his fingers digging into my scalp and he began to pump at my wet mouth.  He hit the back of my throat, making my mouth and eyes water.  Needing him to slow down, just for a moment, I reached between his legs to cup his balls in my palm.  His breathing rasped in my ears, harsh in the quiet that surrounded us as I closed my fingers gently around his sac, feeling how close he was to coming.  Taking a breath, I let him push, ease into my throat.  He moved more carefully now, his legs shaking with the effort as he denied his body, restraining himself from thrusting too hard as he went deeper.  I hummed with appreciation, knowing what the vibration would do to him and felt his thighs tense as he struggled in vain to control himself. 

Losing his battle, he shouted, “Oh fuck, fuck, Kai…oh my god.”

I ran my hands across his stomach, feeling his muscles tighten as he fought for breath.  He jerked against me, shuddering, pulsing in the hot cave of my mouth as he came.  I swallowed and slowly slid off him.  He was slumped against the tree, eyes closed, fingers still pulling lightly at my hair.  I gently untangled them and rose to my feet, picking his coat up, shaking the dirt from it.   It had started to rain again but Ben seemed blissfully unaware.  Smiling, I pulled his clothing up to cover him and his eyes finally opened, hooded and sleepy looking as he reached for me.  With the taste of him still in my mouth, we kissed as raindrops pattered off the leaves.  He shivered so I held his coat for him to slip into.

 “What on earth possessed you?” He asked, zipping up his fly and tucking his shirt in.

“I have no idea,” I grinned, “but consider how much privacy there is when you’re not in the city.”

He took my hand and we made our way back to the path, moving quickly now that we were out from under the cover of the trees.  Coming around a bend we met a man and woman walking their dog and said hello as we passed.

“Christ, so much for privacy.  Five minutes earlier and they’d have been passing those trees just as I was yelling my head off.  Sometimes I think I’m in love with a crazy person.”

 “Sometimes I am a bit…oh,” I chuckled, “I think I might be ovulating.”

 “What?” He turned to look at me, “But I thought…actually I have no idea how an IUD works.” 

“I still ovulate.  And, lucky you - it makes me as horny as hell.” 

“Does it?”

“Oh yeah, that’s how I can usually tell.  My libido goes through the roof and I get sort of loopy.”

 “Well that’s extremely unhelpful.  How am I supposed to notice that?  You’re always sort of loopy.”

As we crossed the road, I said, “O.K, smart ass, here’s another clue.  If I sleep with you the day we meet, I’m ovulating.”

 “Really?”

“Yes, really.  You thought it was just your good looks and British charm that got me into your bed?  Think again Cumberbatch, my morals were trumped by my hormones.”

 “Thank you, hormones.” He said reverentially and I giggled.

We walked up the drive to the house and Ben opened the door for me.  I was hanging my coat up when Wanda came into the room.

“Where have the two of you been?  Supper’s nearly ready and when I called Ardith looking for you she said you’d left ages ago.”

“We were walking Mum, just enjoying the countryside.”

“I was getting worried.  It’s nearly dark and it’s raining again.  Look at you, you’re soaking wet.”

 “We’ll go change and we’ll be right down, O.K. Mum?”  

We went upstairs and got cleaned up, then joined Tim and Wanda in the kitchen.  Tim poured us a shockingly strong pre-dinner drink and we chatted until the food was ready.  Having again refused my help before dinner, after we’d eaten Wanda suggested I stay and help her with the dishes and she shooed Ben and Tim from the room.  D-day, I thought, she wants me to herself.

At first, we didn’t talk about anything much; she asked about the farm tour, about what Clarence and Ardith had shown us.

“And you say that’s the sort of thing you’d want to do?”

“Maybe not right away, but yes, eventually.  It’s the way things are going – people want organic, farm raised, natural, cruelty-free.  They want to know where their food is coming from, so the time is right to a least start planning for a venture like that.”

“Kai, do you really see Benedict living on a farm?”

I couldn’t help but smile as she cut straight to the chase.

“I don’t know Wanda, but he’s considering it.  He loves London and I’d never ask him to give up the flat and leave the city for good.  He needs to have a base there, for work and because of his friends, I know that.  But he’s away for long periods of time and my life has to continue while he’s gone.  I need to work too; I need to feel like what I’m doing matters, at least to myself.  And financially, I need to feel like I’m carrying my own weight.  I don’t want him to have to support me.”

I had finished drying the dishes and Wanda was watching me, leaning with her hip on the counter and her arms crossed.  I faced her and waited.

“What I still don’t understand is why you were in such a hurry to move in together.”

“Honestly Wanda, I don’t think he’d planned to ask me to move in with him, I think it was a spur of the moment thing.  We were talking about our future and he just asked me.  I said yes because it feels right; I want to be where he is.”

“My concern is that he was worried about losing you and he’s made a rash decision based on that.” 

She certainly didn’t sugar coat things, but I appreciated her straight forward manner, mainly because it allowed me to be the same way when I answered her.

“He didn’t ask me because he was afraid I’d leave him otherwise; he asked me because he loves me.  And moving in together isn’t a solution to staying in the U.K.  It makes no difference to the Immigration people.”  I picked my wine glass up off the table and emptied it before continuing, “You know Wanda, when Ben called you right after we’d met because he needed advice, you told him to follow his instincts.  You said he should follow his heart and not let his head get in the way of doing what felt right to him.  That’s what he’s doing, so what’s changed?  Is it me specifically or is there something else?”

She looked at me, and I waited, fingers mentally crossed that I hadn’t made a mistake in repeating her own words back to her, but I needed to know if her concern was about me personally or if she was just being a mother, protective of her son.

 “I also told him that he hadn’t been raised to assume the worst of people Kai, so I don’t want you to think that’s what’s happening here.  I like you, Tim is very fond of you and it’s blindingly obvious how Ben feels about you.  Regardless, I am concerned about how quickly you’re moving.  I don’t want my son to get hurt.”

“If you’re looking for reassurances from me that nothing bad will ever happen, I can’t give you that.  That’s unrealistic and it would be a lie.  I can’t promise that I’ll never hurt him; I can only promise you that I would never do it on purpose.  It would break my heart if I ever gave him reason to be unhappy.”

She sat down and I joined her at the table, watching her fingers picking at a loose thread in the tablecloth.

“And is living together the end game?  I can see that you love each other, but I’m old fashioned Kai and I want to see my son married.”  

“I get that you’re old fashioned, but I’m not.  My Mum and Dad have been together for 42 years and they’re not married so you have to see why a wedding just isn’t that important to me.  My parents are the perfect example of why it’s not the ceremony that produces the commitment - it’s dedication and hard work and honesty.  And Wanda, it’s not as though he’s asked me to marry him and I turned him down.  We’ve never even discussed it.  If Ben needs a wedding then we can have one,” I grinned, “but I’m not going to propose to him.”

 “Certainly not; that isn’t what I was suggesting at all,” she smiled, “I only wanted to know if you’d talked about it.  At the risk of sounding as though I want my cake and to eat it too, and in spite of thinking you’re moving far too quickly already, what about children?  You’re not getting any younger.”

“Tim is your second husband isn’t he?  How old were you when you had Ben?”

She stared at me, her blue eyes riveted on my face.  I could see that she knew that I already knew the answer to my question and she was both annoyed and amused.

“I was 41 when he was born.” She admitted.

“The only reason I bring it up is because you of all people should understand that it’s not impossible.  But I’m not about to start trying until I know whether or not I’m going to be forced onto an airplane in two months’ time.  Consider for a moment what that would do to him, watching me, pregnant, being deported and being helpless to do anything about it.  Not on your life Wanda.  It would be traumatic for me, and it would fucking kill him.”

“Yes, you’re right of course.  As long as I know you’re at least thinking about it, that will have to do for now.  Ben will always be my baby Kai, and I want the best for him, I want him to have a perfect life.”

She held my gaze and I knew she wanted me to understand her protective instinct.

 “You may disagree with the path Ben and I are taking, but in the end, you and I want the same thing.  I want him to be happy and I’ll do whatever is in my power to make that happen.  That’s the only guarantee I’m willing to give you Wanda.”

“I don’t think I could reasonably expect more than that.  As I said to my son, that’s the last you’ll hear from me on the subject.  I’m satisfied.”

“Thank god.  You have no idea how glad I am to have that out of the way.  I’ve been dreading this since you rang to invite us.”

“Mother-in-law’s prerogative.” She chuckled.

“Remember that when Ben meets my parents,” I replied with a smile, “And now, if you really don’t have any more questions, I think I’ve earned a drink.”

As I opened the door and we walked into the sitting room, Ben looked at me, raising an eyebrow.  I smiled and exhaled dramatically, taking his drink from his hand and finishing it.

“Oh good, you’re both still in one piece.” said Tim, getting up to open a new bottle.

I sat down with Ben, who asked quietly, “Well?”

Whispering, I reassured him, “I’m fine.  We’re fine.”

We left after lunch the next day.  Tim and I had worked outside together all morning.   He was extremely happy with the progress we had made and I was not only pleased to have been able to get some of the heavy work done for him, but was also feeling a sense of accomplishment for the first time in weeks.  Ben packed our things into the boot of the car while I said my good byes.  Tim hugged me hugely which wasn’t a surprise but Wanda did too, which was.

When Ben rejoined us at the door, I reached into his pocket for the car keys.

“You’re driving are you?”

“Yes, fair’s fair, you drove up.”

Leaving him to say good bye to his parents, I got into the car.  As he folded his long frame into the passenger seat, I started the engine and put my window down to wave while I headed down the drive.

“Which way am I going?”

“Turn right.  I’ve programmed the address into the nav system.” He said, pressing buttons on the display.

“I can’t believe how excited I am.”

“I know.  I’ve been trying to not get my hopes up.  I mean, it’s only the first house we’re looking at, but I can’t help it.”

“I’m not talking about the house, although that’s good too.  I’m talking about getting home and having you to myself where I don’t care how much noise the bed makes.”

He grinned, “You are a wanton woman.”

“Yeah, wantin’ to get you home.”

He laughed and reached for my hand.   As usual, since I was driving, we were early.  We stopped in the village nearest the house to get a cup of coffee and then walked around looking in shop windows.  As we headed back toward the car, a group of four teenage girls in school uniforms came out the door of a bakery, blocking the pavement in front of us.  We started to step around them when I saw one of them elbow her friend.

“Molly, look.” She nodded in our direction, “Excuse me?  Are you Benedict Cumberbatch?”

We stopped, Ben smiling at the girl who’d spoken.

“Yes I am.  What’s your name?”

In a split second, they had their phones out, all speaking at the same time, asking for pictures.  Ben was friendly and patient, standing with his arm around each girl in turn as her friends snapped pictures and signing the covers of their school books.  One girl was standing slightly to the side and she looked at me.

“Who are you?” She asked, politely.

“My name is Kai.  I’m his girlfriend.”

“Are you the one with the motorbike?”

Laughing, I admitted, “Yeah that was me.”

She looked back at Ben, still chatting with her friends.

“You’re very lucky.” She sighed.

“Yes, I know, but so is he,” I grinned.  Putting my hand out for her phone I asked, “Would you like me to take a picture of all of you together?”

They gathered around Ben and I took a few shots on each of their phones before he announced that we had an appointment and had to run.  Walking back to the car, I told him I thought he’d been very sweet to the girls.

“It’s easy when they’re polite like that and mostly, people are.  I’ve had much more awkward situations, where people grab at me or try to kiss me, and those are awful.  I hate appearing rude, but when you’re trying to peel someone off you…I’ll never get used to that part of it.”

“You were lovely and you’ve made their day.  Wait ‘til they get to school tomorrow and show everyone those pictures.”

I followed the GPS instructions and we left the village, making our way slowly down a narrow road.  We passed a sign for a nature preserve and shortly after that came to the long winding driveway of the house.  I pulled in and we drove up to the cobbled courtyard and got out of the car.  The estate agent came outside to greet us.

“Hello, I’m Howard Michaels, welcome.”

Shaking his hand, I looked up at the house, its soft rust-red stone bathed in sunlight.  The windows were cased in white frames and the beams outside were painted black.  In the lush green surroundings, the house looked solid, permanent.  Howard passed Ben a folder that contained the paperwork detailing the property and we walked around the side of the house.  The fields opened up before us like a painting, sheep in the distance, long galleries of tall trees and dark hedgerows dividing the properties in the distance.  It looked like every idyllic painted landscape that had made me want to see England for myself and my heart thumped in my chest.  I looked up at Ben and smiled as he put his arm around my shoulders.  Walking together, we looked through the barns, empty of animals.  One was being used as a garage; the current owner storing several cars and a motorcycle, but the building itself was in excellent shape.  The second barn had an enclosed studio/bedroom upstairs and more storage below, but again, could easily be converted back to its original use.  The third outbuilding was the ‘staff quarters’, a two bedroom cottage that backed onto the huge garden area of the main house. 

After touring the cottage we made our way to the front door of the house and Howard led us inside.  The entry was warm and welcoming, with beautiful old wood floors and tall bookcases on either side of the front door.  As we walked from room to room on the main floor, Ben guiding me with his hand on my waist, he and Howard chatted.   Howard was pointing out original architectural details like the stone fireplaces and the huge exposed beams in the ceilings.  I concentrated on looking past the furniture and the owner’s belongings, trying to discover the bones of the house.  Most of the floors had been carpeted, presumably for warmth, but I found myself thinking the first thing I’d do was tear them out and expose the gorgeous old wood.  I didn’t say much until we went to the kitchen.  It was enormous, the floor made of stone, an island with a worktop in the centre and an eight burner gas stove with four ovens and two warmers.  There was a hideous tile mosaic behind the stove and I started to giggle when I saw it.  It was a folk art style scene of rolling green hills and farm animals.

“Oh, I’m sorry, but that is ghastly.  Those chickens look like they were drawn by pre-schoolers.” I clarified, “Drunk pre-schoolers.”

Ben poked me with his elbow, trying not to grin, but Howard guffawed.

“It’s certainly not to everyone’s taste.  Maybe we should take a look at the upstairs.”

I followed him up the narrow staircase, Ben behind me.  Stopping to point out the woodwork, Howard had his back to us and I felt Ben’s hand on my bum.  As the realtor turned back to us, I pushed Ben’s hand away and gave him a look over my shoulder, telling him to cut it out. 

“The house is described as six bedrooms,” Howard explained as we went along the hall, “but that’s including the staff quarters, so the main house actually has only four bedrooms.”

“Tsk.  Only four bedrooms Ben, what were you thinking?”

There were two small bedrooms at the front of the house, overlooking the courtyard, and a larger third one across from the main bathroom.  We went into each bedroom, looking in closets and out the windows.  Every time Howard looked away, Ben would touch me – fingers gliding down the back of my arm or lingering on my waist, sliding lower if I was between him and the agent.  His face remained completely impassive as though he had no idea what his hands were doing as he looked around the rooms.

Howard stayed in the hall as Ben and I went into the more confined space of the main bathroom.  It had been completely updated but beautifully done and was one of my favourite rooms in the house, with a large shower stall and an enormous claw foot tub surrounded by windows.  I stepped around the corner behind the shower and Ben pushed me up against the wall, his mouth on mine, demanding; his hands on my jaw holding me to him just for a second.  He looked at me, his eyes sparkling, then he turned me around, steering me ahead of him back to the hallway.  I could feel my cheeks reddening and I could barely look at Howard as he asked us to follow him to the master bedroom.

It was huge, taking up the entire back of the top floor, with windows looking out over the fields.  On the main floor the ceiling beams were embedded in the plaster, but here were completely exposed, crisscrossing at angles above the bed, with two large upright posts bearing their weight.  We looked into the en suite bathroom, smaller than the main one but with footed slipper tub and large shower.  Howard’s mobile rang and he excused himself, stepping into the hallway to take the call.  Standing behind me with his hands on my hips, Ben leaned down, speaking softly.

“It’s a nice enough house but I’m fixated on those beams.”

“What about them?” I asked, puzzled.

“I can’t help wondering what you’d look like tied to one.  Naked, with your arms over your head.”

My skin prickled and my nipples tightened. 

“Howard,” he said as the agent rejoined us, “thank you so much for showing us the house.”

His ability to shift between talking with Howard and toying with me was maddening.  We made our way back out to the main courtyard, Ben telling Howard that we’d be in touch.

“Will the owners be home soon?” I asked.

“They’re on holiday, but easily reachable.”

“Since they’re not here, do you think it would be alright if Ben and I took a walk?  I’d like to get the lay of the land, if that’s O.K?”

“I have another appointment, but if you don’t mind showing yourselves around..?”

I thanked him and we said good bye as he got into his car.

“Are we going into the woods again?” Ben asked hopefully as we waved at the back of Howard’s departing car.

“Not this time.  There’s something I’ve been wanting to try.”

Going to the car I reclined the passenger seat as far as it would go and took a quick look around, assuring myself that we were alone.  I took my jacket off, threw it in the car and unbuttoning my shirt, turned to Ben who was watching, expectantly.

“Come here Ben.” I invited.

He walked quickly to where I stood and pulled me tightly to him, his kiss urgent, rough.  As his hands moved to my breasts I tore at his buttons; needing his skin against mine.  I sucked his tongue into my mouth, scraping my fingernails lightly across his belly, around to his back, bringing his body close. 

“Where’s the fucking..?” His hands were on my back, roaming under my shirt.

“Front.” I said, leaning back so he could undo my bra while I reached for his belt.

He bent, sucking a nipple between his teeth while I stroked him through his clothing. 

“Kai, I need you, now.” 

“Get in the car; I want to be on top.”

He slid into the reclined seat, pushing his trousers down with both handsand lying back.  I kicked my shoes off and removed my jeans, tossing them into the driver’s seat.  Ducking my head, I slipped my leg over his hips and sat on his lap.  Breathing hard, we stared into each other’s eyes and for a moment neither of us moved.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I have been for two days.  Are you ready?”

Laughing, he ran his hand down his belly and I rose on my knees, ignoring the discomfort as my leg pressed against the console, so he could get his hand between our bodies.  He trailed his finger along my slit, pushing between the lips and I smiled.

“You’re killing me Cumberbatch.  Hurry up.”

“No.  I just want to…”

Reaching down, I pushed his hand away and rubbed his thick cock against myself, wetting him in my folds.  I sat up,biting my lip and took him in one smooth movement.  I was vibrating; aroused by how full he made me, how tightly I surrounded him.

“Oh Christ Ben, I love having you inside me.”

“I can’t stop thinking about those beams.  Put your arms over your head for me my love.”

I braced my hands on the roof of the car and started to move on him.  His hands gripped my thighs and he watched me, his eyes narrowed and dark.  In the confines of the car, my movements were limited.  I kept myself hard against him, gyrating, grinding my clitoris against his pubic bone until my breath was coming short and his hips began to lift.

“Give me your hands.” he murmured.

I placed my hands in his and he pinned my arms behind my back, holding them there as I leaned forward until he was free to thrust into me.  The sound of our bodies connecting was loud in the small space and when Ben groaned it filled my head.  I bent down and we kissed, all tongues and teeth and hot breath until I was whimpering into his mouth.

He locked my body to his, his hands tight on my wrists, just on the edge of pain but enough to make my muscles clench around him in response.  I sucked at his neck and his hips snapped sharply, driving his length into me, my breasts bouncing against his chest with every impact of our bodies.

“Please Ben, please, keep doing that.”

He was moaning now, that deep, helpless sound he made when he was close, when he was losing control, and I loved it.  Closing my eyes, I let his voice carry me.  I started to shake, crying his name, my toes curling with delight as he got louder and I knew he was tumbling with me.   I struggled to free myself and he released me so I could push up, hands on his chest and watch his face when he let go inside me with one final deep shove. 

I lay on top of him, his arms holding me close until we could move again.

“I love you so fucking much.” 

I felt his voice resonate where my head rested on his chest and I smiled.

“It’s so sexy when you swear like that.”

“Is it?”

“It is to me.  You’re intelligent and educated.  When you’re so overwhelmed that you can’t think of any better way to express what you’re feeling than ‘I love you so fucking much’?  That completely does a number on me.”

His hands slipped under my arms and he pulled me up, kissing me thoroughly.  We got dressed and stood leaning on the bonnet of the car, my back to his chest and his arms around me, chin resting on top of my head.  We were quiet, watching the colours change across the fields as the sun began to go down.

“It is beautiful here.” He said.

“Yes, it is.”

“What do you think?  Of the house?”

“It has potential.”

“There’s a lot of work to be done though.  After visiting Clarence and Ardith’s place, even I can see that.”

“Mm-hmm.” I agreed.

“You’re not giving me much to work with here Kai.  I’m trying to ask you if you want this house.”

I turned to face him, putting my arms around his waist.

“I don’t know yet, I need some time to think.  What about you?  Could you live here?”

“The more I think about it, the more aware I am that as long as you’re there, I don’t care where I live.  Take as much time as you like, but if you want this house, it’s yours.”

“Ben?  Even though I don’t have a job, even with the Immigration stuff hanging over my head, I need you to know that I’ve never in my life been happier.”

“Good.”  He kissed me softly, “If you’re happy, my beautiful girl, I’m happy.”

He wanted see how long it would take to make the trip to and from the flat in London, so he got into the driver’s seat.  He said if I drove, it would skew the results.  I climbed into the passenger side and fixed my seat.  Looking at the dash, I chuckled.

“You’ve left shoe prints.”

“When did I have my feet up there?”

“I don’t know; I wasn’t exactly paying attention to the mechanics.  I was too busy, getting the lay of the land.” I grinned, wiping at the marks with my sleeve.

Ben was pleased that the drive home took less than 45 minutes, estimating that if he were travelling to or from Heathrow, it would be about the same.  We’d unpacked and I was loading the washing machine when Ben called to me.

“Kai, where are you?”

“Laundry.”

He appeared in the doorway.

“Have you had your phone off the whole time we were away?”

“Yes, why?”

“I had as well,” He passed me his phone, “It’s Jeremy; he’s been trying to reach you.”

“Hi Jemmy, what’s up?”

“Kai, Bev Klein has been trying to get hold of you.”

“Bev?  What the hell for?”

“I don’t know.  She called me because she still had me down as your emergency contact.  She said she’d left you a couple of messages and wanted to know if you were maybe out of the country or something.  I told her I’d track you down.”

“Huh.  O.K. Jem, I’ll find out what she wants.  Thanks for letting me know – can I call you back later?”

“No, I’m just heading out.  I’ve got a date, but call me tomorrow – not too early.”

Going to the kitchen, I got my phone from my purse and turned it on, skipping to Bev’s messages.  I listened to her familiar voice.

“Hello Kai, it’s Bev Klein calling.  I’d like to speak with you.  Can you call me back?  It’s best if you call my mobile.”

Then a second message, “It’s Bev again.  I really do need to speak with you.  It’s rather urgent.  Please, call me back.”

And a third, that started with a sigh, “Kai.  I don’t know if you’re away or I suppose it’s possible that you’re avoiding me.  I wouldn’t bother you, but it’s an emergency.  Please phone me back.”

I called her mobile and she answered right away.

“Hi Bev, I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you before now, I was out of the city and I had my phone off.”

“I’m so glad you called.  I’m in an awful mess and I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t think of anyone else to ask.” She sounded tired and desperate.

“What’s going on Bev?”

 “I’ve been in a car accident and I’m in hospital.  I’m alright, there’s nothing life threatening, but I’m going to be recovering for some time.”

“Oh my god, what happened?”

Ben came into the kitchen and passed me a glass of whiskey, then leaned on the counter, listening with a concerned frown on his face.

“Another car crossed into my lane and I swerved to avoid it and crashed into a tree.  I’ve broken one leg, one ankle and one arm.”

“What do you need Bev?  What can I do?”

“Is there the slightest chance you’d be available to manage the business for me for a while?”

I was stunned. 

“Kai, are you still there?”

“Sorry, yes.  Can I come and see you tomorrow?  I need to think about this and talk it over with Ben.”

She gave me the name of the hospital she was in, and her room number and I hung up.  I explained everything to Ben and took a large sip from my glass.

“I can see on your face that you want to help her.”

“Of course I do, can you imagine what she’s going through?  And she was very good to me, right up until she let me go.  But, it would be an enormous commitment of my time and energy and I need to focus on what I’m going to do about my own future.”

“It’s very sweet of you to want to go her rescue, but yes, you have to be your first priority.”

“We are my first priority.  On the other hand, I know Bev’s company and clients nearly as well as she does.  If I’m only working in the office, I’d still have time to work on my own things, figure out what I’m doing business-wise, and think about the house…and I could use the money,” 

I paced, walking from the kitchen to the sitting room and back again.

“And you’d be doing something you enjoy doing.  You don’t have to make up your mind tonight.  Think about it, but wait and see what she has to say tomorrow, what she’s offering.”

“But I’m thinking of you as well.”

“We start rehearsals on Thursday and then on Monday I head up north to begin shooting.  I’m going to be back and forth until we wrap in October.  I’d be happy if you’d just come with me, but I know that’s not realistic.  If you want to do this, then do it.  All I ask is that you keep the date of Tom’s premiere and your birthday week-end free.  I want you to myself for those.”

“Oh Christ, the premiere.  I still have to find a dress.”

“I told you, I can get Louise to help.”

“No, I already talked to Charlie, he’s going to come with me, but I’d better get on it.”

I sat on the sofa and he joined me, his arm around my shoulders.  He held his script in his other hand, reading quietly while I sat and stewed, thinking about Bev and running scenarios in my head.  When the washer buzzed, I got up to throw my clothes in the dryer and Ben ordered dinner from the local Thai restaurant.  After we ate, he went back to work on his script, making notes and running his lines quietly under his breath.  I festered and deliberated and fidgeted while trying very hard not to be side tracked by Ben’s habit of rubbing his lips with his fingers while he read.  Finally, completely unable to concentrate on anything else, I just stopped trying and pulled him up the stairs to bed.

Ben was out the door first thing in the morning for a photo shoot.  I took my time getting ready but I realized I was only postponing the inevitable.  I still had no idea what my answer was going to be, but I got on my bike and headed for the hospital to see Bev.

Pushing the door of her room open, I was taken aback by how frail she looked.  Her arm was casted and in a sling across her chest, one leg in traction and the other heavily bandaged from the knee down.  She looked small and pale in the hospital bed, but as soon as she saw me, her eyes lit up.  She pressed the button at the bedside to raise herself cautiously to a sitting position.

“You look awful.” I said, putting my helmet down and giving her a gentle hug.

“Thanks very much,” she laughed, “I’m still in a fair amount of pain, but it could have been so much worse.”

“I’m grateful that it wasn’t.”

She told me about the accident again, going into more detail and showed me a photo of her car on her phone.  She was right; considering the condition of the car, it looked as though she’d been very lucky.

“I get tired very quickly Kai, so I’ll get right to the point.  I feel terrible for asking you, considering how we left things, but there’s no one else I can trust to take over while I’m laid up.  Alicia is too junior and neither Martin nor Phil has a head for paperwork.  I’ve had to hire two people to replace you and they haven’t been with me long enough to run the office.  You already know most of our clients and you’ve got a solid understanding of the billing and…oh dear, I haven’t even asked you if you’re already working somewhere else.”

I grinned, amused by how quickly she was talking but also feeling badly for how forlorn she sounded.

“No, I’ve not found work yet Bev.  But,” I held up my hand as she immediately looked hopeful, “I also don’t have all the time in the world.”

I reminded her that my residency in the U.K. had been contingent on my visa and told her how little time I had left to get myself sorted before I’d be booted out.

“So, what kind of commitment are we talking about Bev?  Have you any idea how long it’ll be before you’re able to get back to work?”

“The physiotherapist said this morning that it would be at least two months before I could even consider spending longer than a couple of hours at a time in the office and probably twice that before I’m back at full capacity.  But considering the situation you’re in, I suppose that would be impossible.”

I leaned back in my chair, “Bev, how old are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“What I mean is, how much thought have you put into retiring?  Have you thought about what you’re going to do with ‘Down to Earth’when you do?  Are you planning to hire someone to run it full time or sell it?  Or, sell part of it?”

She gazed at me for a long time, considering the implications of what I’d asked.  And when she finally spoke, she sounded resigned.

“I’ve discussed all of those possibilities with my husband.  Are you telling me you want to buy in?”

“I’m telling you that I can’t step in temporarily because it simply isn’t an option for me.  I considered asking you to hire me back full time, but that’s not a solution either, because as long as I’m just an employee, Ben and my personal life are always going to take precedence.  But if you’d sell me part of the company, take me on as your partner so I can get a different visa and stay in the country; that changes everything.  I would literally be invested in making it work.”

“I need to talk to my husband and my accountant.”

“I need to talk to Ben and my lawyer.  But if this is going to happen, it has to happen sooner, not later.  In the meantime, as long as I know you’re seriously thinking about it, and as a show of good faith, “I smiled, “I’ll help you out for the next couple of weeks.”

She shook her head, “When did you learn to drive such a hard bargain?”

“I’m showing you all my cards here Bev, this could be the solution to all my problems.  However, I do still have other options, so I’m not going to settle for less than what I think I’ve earned.”

“Can you go into the office tomorrow?”

“No, I’m busy tomorrow, but I can start Thursday.”

“Alright,” she sighed, “call your lawyer and talk to your man.  I’ll be in touch.”

She asked me to get her purse from the drawer and gave me her set of keys, promising to call as soon as she had something to tell me.  I walked down to the car park in a daze, equally astonished at my own nerve and elated at the possibilities that had suddenly opened to me. 

I parked in front of the flat and unpacked the groceries I’d picked up from my panniers.   Ben was still out so I put the food away and made a couple of phone calls.  I left a message with the receptionist at the lawyer’s office, rang Charlie who confirmed he was free to take me dress shopping the next day and tried to reach Jem, but got his voicemail.  I was upstairs changing when I heard the front door.  I was giddy and couldn’t wait to tell Ben my news, so I raced to greet him.  I flew down the stairs, skidding to a stop in front of him.

“Something’s happened, what is it?” He grinned.

I let it all spill out.  Talking a mile a minute, I told him everything before he could even get his shoes off.

“That’s fucking brilliant!  When did you come up with this plan?”

“Seriously Ben, it just came to me in a flash when she started talking.  You would have been proud of me.  I went in and laid out what I wanted and maybe I should be feeling bad for leaving her with no real choice - she can really only say yes or no - but I don’t feel guilty, not even a little bit.”

Laughing, he picked me up and spun us in a circle before putting me down and giving me a huge kiss.

“Do you want to go out and celebrate?”

“No.  I’m not usually superstitious but I don’t want to jinx it.  But, I’m wired; I was just getting changed to go out for a run when you got home.”

“Go on then, go blow off some steam.”

“I bought chicken.  Would you peel some potatoes and snip the green beans?”

“I’ll cook tonight.”

“You sure?”

“I did just about manage to feed myself before you came along.  I think I can sort out chicken and vegetables.  Now get out of here, I need to talk to myself in Julia Child’s voice and if you hear that you’ll never sleep with me again.”

“It’d take more than that Cumberbatch.”

“That’s what you say now.” He said, in an uncanny impression of the chef.

I stared at him.

“Yeah, I may have spoken too soon.  That’s really fucking creepy.”

He smacked me on the ass as I left the flat and I grinned all the way down the stairs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Unasked, Unanswered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping for a dress, dinner with friends and jealousy unexpectedly rears its head.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 16 – Unasked, Unanswered

 

Waking, trying to stretch, I found I couldn’t really move and I smiled to myself.  When Ben and I first began spending the night together, I used to go to sleep on my side just as I did in my own bed.  I’d wake up with him sometimes curled around my back, sometimes beside me, on his belly with his arms wrapped around his pillow.  After we’d been together for a while, I began to prefer the closeness, the intimacy of facing him rather than turning my back to him.  I fell asleep more easily with my head on his chest, his heart beating in my ear like a metronome, his arms holding me snug to his body.  And soon, we started to gravitate toward each other in our sleep, just as we did when awake.  Since he’d come home, since I’d moved in to the flat, he not only held me, but wrapped himself around my form in his sleep like he used to with his pillow.  We’d wake tangled; a mess of arms and legs.  Our bodies seemed to seek each other out, needing to be connected, anchored. 

This morning, he had one leg twined through mine, his arm surrounding my waist and his head rested heavily on my chest.  I ran my hand through his auburn curls, enjoying the silkiness between my fingers.  He’d already warned me they were going to cut his hair when filming started.  He stirred and sighed, his arm tightening around me.

“G’morning.” He said huskily.

“Good morning my love, sleep well?”

“I always do when I’m with you.  What time is it?” 

He was seeing the director and scriptwriter for the new film then meeting with his management team before a round of interviews.

“I don’t know, I can’t see your alarm clock.”

He pressed his lips to my skin then rolled over, stretching for the clock.

“Fuck!  Shit!  I forgot to set it.  I’m going to be late.”

He leapt out of bed and ran to the bathroom, turning the shower on to heat while he brushed his teeth. 

Pulling my nightshirt on, I poked my head in the door and asked “What can I do?”

He spoke around his toothbrush, “Coffee?  To go?  And script, with my keys?”

“On it.”

I made coffee while he showered and poured it into a travel mug for him, adding sugar.  I retrieved his script from the table in the sitting room and put it on the counter with his car keys and coffee cup then went upstairs to brush my teeth while he got dressed.  I followed him down the stairs as he spoke with his phone tucked into his neck, zipping his jeans.

“Yup, leaving now.  Barring traffic, I may actually be on time.  Thanks Lou, see you shortly.”

As he pulled his coat on, he told me that he hoped I’d have fun shopping for my dress with Charlie.

“Whatever you need; shoes, stockings, something lovely and lacy for me to enjoy afterward, put it on the card.  My treat, remember?”

“How could I forget?” I asked with a grin.

He kissed me good bye and I locked the door behind him.  I went back upstairs to shower and after I’d dried my hair, I dialed Charlie’s number while I drank my coffee.

“I can pick you up in about an hour if you like.”

“On your bike?  Are you mad?  I am not going shopping for a red carpet dress with helmet hair and neither are you.  I’ll drive.”

“Whatever you say Charlie; today, I’m at your mercy.”

“Wear something that’s easy to get in and out of; you’re going to be trying on a lot of dresses.  Good underwear, because you don’t want to be embarrassed when they’re fitting you and don’t forget a pair of shoes with a heel because that changes how you stand.”

“Yes Mother.”

An hour later, I was getting into Charlie’s car.

“So, where are you taking me?”

“Leave it to me; I have a plan.  Now, I know what I’m picturing, but what about you?”

“Since Ben’s a guest - he’s not in the movie; do I have to wear something formal and long?  I always look short in long dresses but worse, I’m scared of tripping.  And no black, it’s boring and I don’t look good in it.  Oh, and it has to be comfortable.  I’m going to be nervous enough on the night and I don’t want to be picking at my clothes or itchy or too hot.”

“You want a colourful cocktail dress, so we’re on the same page there.  But it’s not going to be comfortable, so you can forget that right now.  Beauty is pain, my darling.”

“Great.” I sulked.

We walked into the first store on his agenda and the sales assistant came to greet us.  I’d asked for Charlie’s help for a couple of reasons.  He’d been a personal stylist for years.  He had impeccable taste, was my friend and therefore would never steer me wrong but best of all, he could talk to a shop girl like I could talk to a mechanic; he just knew the lingo.  So Charlie took charge, telling her exactly what we were looking for.

“And the event?” She asked.

“Film premiere,” answered Charlie, “and she will be photographed.  She has to look a million dollars so don’t let’s mess about.”

I relaxed – that was exactly why I’d wanted him by my side.  They argued about the length, discussed what colours would work for me and left me standing in the middle of the store while they went and began putting items in a fitting room.  When they were ready, Charlie planted himself on a chair outside the room, happily accepting the glass of champagne that was offered and I went inside and got undressed.  Four dresses later, I was already sweating and starting to think the whole day was going to be a nightmare.  My boobs didn’t fit in anything and my shoulders looked too wide and for the first time in months, I was starting to feel insecure about my appearance.

“Would you mind if my friend just came in here with me?” I asked the assistant who was helping me in and out of the dresses, “I think it’d go a lot quicker if I didn’t have to go out and model every single one in front of the whole store.”

I could tell she wasn’t happy with the idea, but Charlie had overheard me and he simply pulled the door open and came inside.

“We’ll be fine.  I’ll call you,” he peered at her name tag, “Miranda – if we need anything.”

Once we were alone, I held another dress up to myself and looked in the mirror.

“I hate this.”

“I know you do, but you’re going to have to get used to it.  Do you know how many of these things Ben goes to in a year?  Don’t bother with that one, the colour’s all wrong.”  He passed me his glass of champagne, which I polished off.

With Charlie helping me in the fitting room, we flew through the rest of the dresses, taking photos of the two possible yesses and then heading on to the next shop.  We went through the same routine, but this time, I parked myself outside the changing room with another very welcome glass of champagne as Charlie and the shop assistant talked about the event, me and what might work for my body.  And this time, he just came straight into the room with me and helped with zippers and buttons and opinions.   

I found one dress; I only liked one dress out of the dozen I tried on.  And I wasn’t even sure I actually liked how it looked or if I was just relieved that the zip went up all the way up on the first try.  We walked out of the store and Charlie started the car.

“You can wipe that look of defeat off your face right fucking now.  This is going to be an important night for you and I’m going to make sure you look perfect.  I have not yet begun to shop and we’re not giving up until we find the exact thing.”

“You give the best pep talks,” I grinned, grateful for Charlie and his take no prisoners attitude to shopping. 

At the third stop on our fashion tour, the atmosphere was completely different; less frantic, less hurried and certainly less ‘I’m going to sell you this £4000 dress because I need the commission’.  Charlie started his spiel, explaining what I needed, while I looked through a rack of dresses.  I started to push a dress out of the way, dismissing it because of the colour, when the feel of the cloth stopped me.  I ran my hand down the fabric, loving the silky texture and I looked more closely.  It was black and it was long.  And I felt it again.

“Charlie, could you come here for a minute?” I called over my shoulder.

He joined me.

“Look.”

He lifted the dress off the rack and turned it to see the back, running his fingers down the skirt and he held it up to me.

“You know, black isn’t a terrible colour on you.  With the right lipstick it could work.  Try it on.”

I got undressed in the fitting room and let the associate help me into the dress, slipping my feet into my high heeled shoes.  I turned to look at myself as she fastened the zipper and I smiled.  It was everything I hadn’t wanted, and it was perfect.  She opened the door, stepping out of the way and Charlie’s face lit up.

“Come out, let me see the back.”

I loved the way the fabric, stretch crepe, felt.  Like my favourite jersey dress, it clung where it should but skimmed over my body as I moved.  It was simple but elegant, the neck high and the sleeves to my wrists.  The real drama was in the back.  From the neck down, it was open to my waist but there were dozens of thin cords, soft and rounded that came down in a deep ‘U’ shaped fringe from either shoulder and looped over my exposed skin, keeping it from being too revealing.  Although I had on a three inch heel, the dress puddled at my feet, but even I knew that was an easy fix.

There was only one small problem.

“Charlie, I can’t go bra-less.”

“No you really can’t but we should be able to find one that works.  And I’ll bring some tape along when I come to help you get ready, just to be sure.”  

“I’ll take it.” I said to the assistant.

Twenty minutes later, the dress had been pinned for alterations and we walked out of the store.  Well, Charlie walked.  I floated out on a cloud of relief.  The rest of the afternoon was fun.  I decided I didn’t need new shoes, since they wouldn’t show anyway and the ones I already had were nicely broken in and I could walk in them.  And, as much as I hated shopping, buying lingerie with Ben in mind was a different experience.  I was able to find a beautiful black and silver matched set, the bra adjustable so it wouldn’t show at the back of my new dress, and I got a new pair of black stockings too.  I decided to splurge and picked out a few more things I knew he’d like.  There was one item; a pale cream coloured corset that I thought might be a bit over the top, so I called Charlie to the fitting room to give me his opinion.

“Ooh, the lucky bastard,” was his response, and the only encouragement I needed.

The woman at the counter rang up my purchases and before I could change my mind, appalled at how much money I was spending, I passed her Ben’s credit card.  She looked at it, then at me, then back at the card. 

“If he likes what I’ve bought here, I’ll be back for more.  But not if I read a word about it in the papers.” I warned her, smiling sweetly.

She looked down, her face flushing and passed me the machine to key in the PIN, while she wrapped everything up in layers of tissue paper.  Charlie dropped me at home, promising to see me the following week.  He and his friend Lisa, a make-up artist, would be coming over to help me get ready.  Upstairs, I tucked the bag of lingerie away in the closet under my sweaters, hiding it from Ben.  I checked my phone and found a text from Jem, asking me to call.

“Maple Leaf, I know it’s short notice, but are you and Ben free for dinner tomorrow night?”

“I am, but Ben starts shooting on Monday, so I’ll have to see if he’s up to it.”

“Call me back and let me know.  I want you to meet Alice.”

“Who’s Alice?”

“Remember the waitress you told me I couldn’t hire because I wanted to sleep with her?  Well, Alice is who I hired instead.”

I snorted with laughter

“I know, it’s ridiculous and I didn’t mean to get involved with her, but a few weeks ago she worked a couple of closing shifts and we stayed after and talked and talked and she’s sweet and funny and smart and we’ve been spending a lot of time together.  You have to meet her.”

“Jemmy, I’ve never heard you sound like this.”

“Kai, I’ve never felt like this.  I mean, she works for me, she’s too young for me, she’s only ever been in one serious relationship before and I’m crazy about her.”

“I love hearing you so happy.  I’ll let you know if Ben is coming once I’ve talked to him, but I’m in.  I have got to meet the woman who stopped ‘Love ‘em and leave ‘em’ Jem in his tracks.”

We hung up and I checked the rest of my messages.   Mr. Lancer’s office had called, so I dialed the number and spoke to the receptionist, who put me through to the immigration attorney.  I gave him a quick rundown of what Bev and I had talked about and we made an appointment for me to go in the following week, assuming I’d heard back from her by then with an offer.

When Ben got home, I gave him time to settle in and pour himself a drink before I told him about my day.

“So, you found a dress?”

“Yes, and, Ben, Charlie was so wonderful.  I would have been tearing my hair out if he hadn’t been there.  I’m so excited for you to see it.”

“I can’t wait; I know you’ll look beautiful.  I was going to wear a black suit; what colour is your dress?”

“It’s black, so you can wear whatever you like and it doesn’t matter if we match.” I grinned.

“You’re happy?”

“I couldn’t be happier.”

He wanted to see Jem and meet Alice, and since he wasn’t leaving until Sunday evening, I called Jem back and told him to go ahead and make a reservation for all four of us.

On Thursday, Ben left early for rehearsals and I drove my bike carefully through the pouring rain to the ‘Down to Earth’ office.  I let myself in with Bev’s keys and made a pot of coffee.  Four hours later, I had finally finished all my phone calls and the schedule book was beginning to come together.  It had been great fun reconnecting with old clients who had been surprised that I had simply vanished without a trace, particularly Dr. Beebe who I had promised to go and see personally once I had things in the office running smoothly.  I figured that Bev must have been a bit embarrassed at having let me go, since she hadn’t properly explained my absence to any of my clients.

I spent Friday in the office again, making appointments and going over the billing that had been neglected since Bev had been injured. I called her mobile and got her voicemail so I left a message, telling her things were getting back on track and asking her to call when she could.  I got home before Ben and started getting ready to go out.  I was getting dressed when I heard the front door and him, calling for me.

“I’m upstairs.”

He came into the bedroom as I walked out of the closet with my shoes in my hand.

“You look lovely.  Is that a new dress?”

“No, it’s old, but it’s too warm for me to wear in the summer.”

The dress was soft grey with three quarter length sleeves, the hem just above my knees and a deep v-neckline.  Ben came over and kissed me, his fingers light on my skin above the neck of the dress.

“You need a necklace.”

“I have a silver chain in my jewelry box.”

He smiled, “I think you need some new jewelry.”

“No I don’t Ben; I only wear it when we go out anyway.  Although, I do kind of miss my ring.”

He held his hand up, my silver band still on his finger.

“Tough.  I’m keeping it, at least until I get home from filming.  I like wearing it.”

“And I like you wearing it, but I still miss it.”

Ben changed his clothes and we left to meet Jem.  The restaurant was packed, and once again, I experienced the effect that Ben had on a room.  Holding my hand, he followed the hostess to our table and I walked behind him, watching heads turn.  For him, it was nothing out of the ordinary but for me it was still surreal to see people look from him to me, wondering who I was.

Jem stood up and hugged us both, then introduced us to Alice.  She was very pretty, with wavy, honey coloured hair and large dark eyes.  She greeted us both shyly, but for different reasons.  I assumed she would be nervous because I was Jem’s best friend and she would want to make a good impression.  And then there was the added pressure of meeting Ben, which as lovely as he was, was still unnerving, as I could personally attest.

We took our seats, I choosing to sit across from Alice, and Jem poured us each a glass of wine from the bottle on the table.  We made small talk for a while, starting to get to know each other and trying to make Alice feel welcome.

“Jeremy talks about you all the time,” she eventually said to me, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you and dreading it in equal parts.”

I laughed at her candour.

“I get that.  Meeting your new partner’s friends is a daunting experience.  At least he didn’t spring me on you before you’d even gotten to know each other.” I said, shooting a look at Ben from the corner of my eye.

Ben cheerfully told the story about taking me to Andrew and Julia’s dinner party when we’d first met.  Alice asked if I hadn’t been nervous, meeting eight of Ben’s friends on our first date.  I nearly spat my wine out.

“Nervous?  We’d only met the day before.  I couldn’t have seen the far side of nervous with a telescope.  Fortunately, it distracted me so much that I forgot to freak out about being on a date with him.”

“I would have died.” She admitted then looked at Ben, “Did you not realize how scary that would be for her?”

“In my defense, it was kind of a two birds with one stone sort of thing.  I was about to leave the country for an extended period, I needed to see my friends before I left.  And I was desperate to sleep with her again.”

I started to laugh as Ben leaned back in his seat with a huge grin on his face.  It could have been, probably should have been embarrassing, but he looked so pleased with himself that I really didn’t mind.  His comment was his way of accepting Alice into our group, making her feel as though she belonged.  Jem and I grinned at each other as Ben sat forward again, his arm around my back.

“I’ve been picking the late vegetables from the garden at Jem’s.” Alice said, “It’s so pretty; I can hardly believe what you were able to fit in back there.”

“I’m glad to hear it.  I figured it would go to ruin once I wasn’t there to look after it anymore.  Do you have any experience gardening?”

“My Mum always grew vegetables, so I do, a little.  But I haven’t done any since I left home.”

Alice went on to tell us that she was a painter.  She shared a flat and studio space with two old friends from university and she had taken the job at Jem’s café because she needed to earn some money after returning from living in Italy for a year.  She and Ben chatted about painting and Italy and I watched Jem’s face as he listened to her talk.  I could see how infatuated he was, how he nodded as she spoke, silently agreeing with her opinions.  He looked away for a moment, catching my eye and we smiled at each other.

I was sitting with my elbows resting on the table and Ben leaned forward, holding my hand, his thumb stroking my wrist while Alice told him about an upcoming exhibition that she thought he might be interested in.  We interrupted our conversation to refill our glasses and take a look at the menu.

“Oh look Kai; there’s a seafood feature tonight - squid, your favourite.”

“Bugger off Jemmy.  If I even think about it I’ll lose my appetite.”

“You too?” asked Alice, “I can’t stand the stuff myself.”

We commiserated over how disgusting we both thought it was and Jem threatened to order it just to see if either of us would actually be sick.  We gave our orders to the waiter and went back to talking.  Alice was as bright and funny as Jem had said she was and I was thrilled to see that she seemed to be as enamoured with him as he was with her.  When our appetizers arrived, I stared at Jem’s plate, kicking myself for ordering a salad, when I’d really wanted the scallops in black butter that he’d chosen.  He saw me looking and rolled his eyes.

“You do this every fucking time.  Why can’t you just order what you want?  Why does it matter if someone else is having the same thing?”

“I don’t know; it’s just me - some weird glitch that I have.  Ignore me and eat your scallops.”

“Do you want the scallops instead?” Ben asked, “I can get the waiter.”

“No, thank you Ben, I’m alright with the salad.  It serves me right.”

“Give me your plate.” Said Jem, reaching across the table.

“Don’t be silly Jem, I’m fine.”

He took my plate from in front of me, scraped half my salad onto his plate, put half his scallops on mine and passed it back. 

“Every time,” he said to Alice, “I always end up sharing with her.”

I popped a piece of scallop into my mouth and closed my eyes, chewing slowly.  When I opened them, Jeremy was waiting for the verdict.

“You’re the best, you know that?” I asked.

He shook his head in disgust and stuck a forkful of arugula into his mouth.  I happily finished the seafood and picked the good parts out of the salad.  I was slightly distracted by Ben’s hand, moving slowly on my leg under the table, but not enough to stop him. 

Ben ordered another bottle when the waiter brought our meals and while Alice and I talked, I heard him telling Jem about the house we’d looked at.

“You’re moving out of London?” Jem said to me, sounding stunned.

I broke off from Alice and looked at him.

“We’re thinking about it, but we haven’t signed anything.  The house was fantastic, but I’m not ready to say it’s the one – not yet anyway.  Oh my god, I totally forgot to tell you about Bev.”

I told him what was going on with Bev and her accident and that I was waiting to hear whether she would sell me a piece of her business.

“How much of the company?  What percentage I mean?”

“I don’t know.  I’m waiting to see what she’ll offer.  She said she’d call after she’d talked to her husband and her accountant and then I’ll see where I am.”

“Kai, do you have any idea what a company like ‘Down to Earth’ is worth?”

“No, not precisely.”

I felt a chill run down my back.  I’d been so excited by the prospect of having a job again and getting a new visa that I hadn’t really thought much beyond that.  The fifty thousand that Ben had offered to give me had stuck in my head and only now was it occurring to me that it may not be enough.

“Does she own the office space or lease it?  How many vans does she own, how much equipment?  You know how many clients she has but do you know what the staff costs are?  What the overhead is, how much she clears in a year?  You don’t just need to talk with your immigration attorney; you need someone who knows business law and you need an accountant and that all costs money too.”  

Jem looked positively appalled that I hadn’t thought of all those things myself and I was realizing that maybe my problems weren’t all about to magically disappear when Ben cut in.  He spoke quietly but there was steel in his voice, a tone with which I was familiar but only used to hearing in very different circumstances.

“It doesn’t matter what it costs.  This is too good an opportunity for us to let it pass her by and if she wants it, it’s hers.  We’ll get an accountant and find a lawyer.  We have it covered Jeremy.”  

Seeing that Jem was completely taken aback by the force of his response, I laid my hand on Ben’s arm, wanting to calm him.

“Yeah, O.K. Ben, I didn’t mean to imply that it was a bad idea, I just didn’t know how Kai could afford it.” 

“She can’t.  We can.” He placed his hand over mine, “We’re living together, we’re buying a house; Kai and I are a couple, a team.  Money is the last thing I’d allow to stand in the way of our future.  That’s just stupid if she needs it and I have it.” His voice softened, “What’s mine is hers and if the situation was reversed, she wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for me,” He turned to me, “Right?”

“Not even for a second.  No strings attached.” I assured him.

“That’s right, my love.” He raised my hand to his mouth and kissed it.

“I am glad I talked to you Jem because obviously there were things I hadn’t thought of that will be important when I hear back from Bev.  And this is a business deal; I can’t rely on goodwill and a handshake so, thank you for making sure I thought of that.”

Ben got up from the table to go to the loo as the waiter cleared our plates.

“Is he angry with me?” Jem asked.

“No, he’s frustrated but not with you.  Both of us are so tired of worrying about my visa, we just want to get it settled so we can relax and start making plans.  You also unknowingly stepped into a bit of a hornet’s nest.  We’ve had a couple of…discussions about money.”

“Oh, shit.  Should I apologize?”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong.  You were looking out for me and giving me the benefit of your business experience.  When he gets back, he’ll be fine, like nothing happened.  And he’ll probably apologize to you.”

Alice finally spoke, “He’s a bit scary when he’s, um, frustrated, isn’t he?”

“That?  That was nothing.  Try telling him, in the middle of an argument, to grow up.  Then you’ll see scary.” I laughed.

When Ben returned to the table, he immediately spoke to Jem.

“I’m sorry for jumping down your throat mate, I was out of line.  I get touchy when I think about Kai having to leave, but that’s not really an excuse.”

“Forget it Ben; it’s water under the bridge.  When you love someone, you feel protective.  I understand that.”

Ben and I decided to share a piece of chocolate cake for dessert, but I also tried a spoonful of Jem’s apple tart with brandy ice cream, just to be sure I hadn’t ordered the wrong thing.  After dessert, we stood outside the restaurant, waiting for our cabs.  I promised to let Jem know as soon as I’d heard from Bev and reminded him that Ben was going to be away a lot over the next few weeks, so I’d have some free time on my hands.  We agreed to get together and work on some new songs and I asked Alice if she sang.

“Oh my God no; nobody needs to hear that.  When people sing ‘Happy Birthday’ I just mouth the words so I won’t hurt anyone!”

Laughing, Jem told Ben and I to take the first taxi as it pulled up and I hugged him good bye, thanking him for dinner.

Ben was quiet on the ride home, but he’d had a busy week and several early mornings so I figured he was just tired.  Either that or he was thinking about ‘Down to Earth’ and I didn’t really feel like talking about it anymore tonight, so I leaned my head on his shoulder and we rode home in comfortable silence.

I hung our coats up while Ben poured us each a night cap and I joined him on the sofa.

“Well, that was a bit strange.” He said.

“What was?”

“Oh come on, you know what I mean.”

“No I don’t.  What was strange?”

He frowned, trying to read my expression.

“You honestly didn’t see it?”

I looked at him, blank-faced.

“Kai, she’s you.  Or she’s a milder version of you at any rate.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, lighting a cigarette.

“She’s clever, funny and very sweet.  And she looks like you.”

“Ben, she’s blond, she’s at least 4 inches taller and ten years younger.”

“Mm-hmm.  And she has brown eyes and freckles and if her hair were darker, she could be your sister.”

“Well so what?  Maybe she does look a bit like me, what does it matter?”

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with her.  I’m saying that I think Jem sees it too, and maybe he’s…filling the gap.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, confused.

He stood up, started pacing and I could see he was struggling to find the right words.

“Kai, I’m sure that since you’ve moved in with me, you and Jem miss each other.  But I think for him, it’s more than just his friend that he misses.  I think he has feelings for you.  I think he has done for some time and now that you’re with me he’s finally sure that you aren’t going to return them.  I think he’s been looking for a way to cope, and now he’s found it with someone who’s an awful lot like you.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Ben, don’t be ridiculous,” I said with exasperation, “My relationship with Jem has always been completely platonic.  He’s never said anything to give me the impression he was attracted to me.  We’ve slept in the same bed, when we were on holiday or at a friend’s house and too drunk to drive home and he’s never, not once, tried anything.  We’re friends; that’s it.”

“Of course he’s never tried anything on with you.  He knows you, knows that if you had been interested, you’d have made it clear to him.  Look, Kai, I like Jem and I’m not trying to say he doesn’t genuinely like Alice for who she is, but there’s a reason he was drawn to her.  It’s because she reminds him of you.”

“You are out of your mind.” I said, stamping my cigarette out.

“Stop looking at me as though I had two heads.  I didn’t realize it in the beginning, but the more I saw him with you, heard the way he talks about you; the clearer it was to me.  And I don’t like it, but he’s known you longer, you care for him and he’d never do anything about it, especially now.” He dropped heavily onto the sofa, “So, it makes me uncomfortable, but it’s not as though there’s anything I can do about it.”

“Even if you’re right – which I’m not saying you are – why would you need to do anything about it?  I don’t see Jem as anything other than my friend.”

He sighed, “I’m jealous, alright?  I know it’s irrational but that doesn’t change anything.  If it were anyone else, someone who just had a crush on you or something, I would be fine.  But it’s him.  You trust him, you tell him everything; you love him.”

“I love him like a brother, not like I love you.”  I reached for his hand, “I think you’re totally off the mark about this, but even if you weren’t, there wouldn’t be anything for you to worry about.”

“I know that, I said, it’s irrational.  I know you don’t feel the same way about him, but it didn’t stop me behaving like an asshole.  Why do you think I got so pissed off when he started questioning you about ‘Down to Earth’?  Why do you think I was so quick to point out that I could, would give you the money?  I had to step in before he offered to help you himself.”

I was shocked, “That’s what that was?  You were being territorial?”

“I was showing him that I can afford to take care of you and that you don’t need his help anymore.  As soon as I say it aloud I’m aware of how idiotic it sounds.”  He squeezed my hand, looking for reassurance.

“Ben.  I don’t think you’re an idiot.  I think it’s crazy that you feel threatened by Jeremy.  To me that’s like you feeling threatened by Cass or Leah.  The thing I don’t love hearing is you saying that you can afford to take care of me.  Have I ever given you the impression that I expected that?  That I wanted that?  Jesus, after all the times we’ve argued about money, there are only two times when I haven’t put up a fight.  When I agreed to let you buy me a dress and tonight.  And I didn’t say anything tonight because I didn’t want to fight with you in front of Jem and Alice and because I realize that if I want to stay with you, here, I’m going have to swallow my pride and take your money.  But I don’t expect it and I sure as fuck don’t like having to ask you for it."

“This is exactly the same as before Kai.  You’re not asking me, I’m offering.  No, I’m insisting.  We’re running out of time and with every day that passes, I get more and more frightened about what could happen.  I don’t want to fight about this anymore; you have a problem and I have the solution.  Can’t we just leave it at that?  Please?”

He wasn’t the only one who was frightened.  But for his sake, to protect him, I had been trying so hard not to let my anxiety show, not to let him see the stress that I’d sometimes felt buried under, that I only had myself to blame if he didn’t know that I was feeling the same way he was.  And now, his solution to my problem was to throw money at it and I wasn’t in any position to say no.  For me, so used to standing on my own two feet and proud of my ability to do so, it was an impossible situation.

“I’m not going to argue with you; I’m not going to fight you on this.  You mean more to me than my pride ever will and I’m not going back to Canada.  You called us a team tonight and when you’re on a team, you have to take turns being the strong one, the one who gets to lead.  Right now, it’s my turn to shut up and let you help me.  Someday, I’ll be the one who gets to do something for you and I’ll do it without question because I love you.”

“I know you will and I know you do.  And I’m even happier than usual to hear you say it, given my behaviour tonight.”

“It wasn’t as bad as you think it was.  You apologized and it’s not as though Jem had any idea you were operating under a false assumption.  He just thought you were being protective.” I grinned.

“It wasn’t just the money thing, it gets worse.  Christ, this is embarrassing,” he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, “but when he took your plate and made a big to-do about having to share with you, I had to stop myself telling him to fuck right off.  Whenever he looks at you, I’m aware of it.  Tonight, every time he did, I had to touch you, so he’d see it.  Even though this evening was about us meeting his new girlfriend, there was a part of me that had to show him that he can’t have you.  That you’re mine.”

“Excuse me?” I let go of his hand and sat back, staring at him, “I’m _what?_ ” 

“I’m fully aware of how that sounds.  I know you don’t actually belong to me, that being with me is your choice.   In my rational mind, I know that.  But you know that the heart and the head operate differently and even though I’m disgusted with myself, that’s how I feel.  I’ve never felt this way before but I do with you.  It’s primitive and childish and wrong on every level but I can’t help it.”

I was completely confused.  Even putting aside what he’d said about Jem, which I was still sure he was wrong about, I couldn’t decide whether to slap him or kiss him.  My logical side, my brain, was telling me exactly what his was telling him.  I didn’t need some caveman thinking he owned me.  Like any modern, strong, independent woman I should be have been completely turned off by what he’d said.  And yet, I was strangely thrilled by his admission.

“What the fuck is the matter with us?” I asked, shaking my head, “You’re telling me you’re jealous and confessing that you feel possessive and I should be furious and outraged and instead I just want to take you to bed.”

He grinned, still looking embarrassed, “I would never say anything to Jem about this.  He’s my friend too and he can no more help how he feels about you than I can.  I know how important his friendship is to you so I would never do or say anything to jeopardize it and I’m certainly not going to say I don’t want you to see him anymore…”

I interrupted, “I should bloody well hope not, because then you’d be in for a fight.” 

“I don’t doubt it.”

We were quiet for a moment while I thought about everything he’d said.

 “I hate to admit this, but I’m flattered that you’re jealous.  I’m just insecure enough that knowing you think another man finds me attractive makes me feel like I am.  It makes me aware that you think I’m attractive.  How screwed up is that?  If you actually acted on it though, I’d be horrified and humiliated.”

“So would I.  It’s not as though I’m going challenge Jeremy to a duel for your hand.  Besides, I don’t know how to fight; he’d probably kick my ass.”  He said sheepishly, which made me laugh and defused any tension remaining in the room.

“I’m sorry; I’m sorry I’m being so stupid.” He said, taking both of my hands in his.

“Don’t ever be sorry for telling me what you’re feeling Ben, or for telling me the truth.”

“Did you say something before about wanting to take me to bed?”

“I did.  Take me upstairs and show me again why you’re the only man I want.”

He stood and lifted me to my feet, bringing our hands together behind my back and kissing me, catching my lip with his teeth.

“I’m feeling the need to exert some control.”

“I can’t imagine why.” I smiled.

“I think I’m going to tie your arms to the bed.  I like it when you’re helpless.”

“So do I.”

He kissed me again, let go of my hands and picked me up.  I put my arms around his neck and let my head fall to his shoulder, feeling safe and loved when he held me to his chest, carrying me up the stairs.  He set me on my feet beside the bed, his hands stroking my back.

“I felt this earlier; what are you wearing under your dress?”

“Take it off and find out.” I suggested.

Gathering the fabric of my dress in his hands, he drew it up over my head.   I stood before him in the cream coloured corset that just barely contained my breasts, matching panties, sheer stockings and my shoes.  I heard his sharp intake of breath as he dropped my dress to the floor.

“Holy fuck.”

I smiled, “You buy me the best presents.”

“I buy myself the best presents.” He countered, seemingly hypnotized by his fingers tracing the top of the corset, sitting just above my nipples.

He pulled me tight to his body, kissing me hard, pushing his tongue deeply into my mouth and I melted into him.  His hands gripped my bum, and he bit at my neck, licking at each spot he nipped.  He went to his knees in front of me, his hands gliding up and down my legs over the thin stockings and he looked up at me as his fingers skimmed over the crotch of my underwear.

“You’re wet.”

“Of course I am.  You’re here.”

He smiled then bent forward, pulling the fabric aside and dipping his tongue inside, probing.  I gasped and reached for his hair, pulling him against me.

He stopped and looked up at me.  “No, that will never do.”

Running his hand over my calves, he removed first one shoe, then the other.  Then he slowly rolled each of my stockings down and off before he stood up.

“Give me your hands.”

I held them out and he carefully bound my wrists together using a stocking.  He leaned over and moved all the pillows but one which he placed in the centre of the headboard.

“Lie down with your arms over your head and hold the headboard.”

I crawled to middle of the bed and did as he said.  As soon as I was on my back, my breasts fell upward, spilling out of the corset.  He straddled my waist, his eyes moving over my body.  He reached up and wrapped the second stocking around the first, then tied me securely to the slat above my head.

“Can you move your hands?”

I flexed my fingers, testing the bonds.  They were tight, but they stretched, just enough that it made me even more aware of my limits.

“Yes.”

He palmed my breasts, pushing them together and took a nipple in his mouth.  I arched my back to get closer and he switched sides, biting lightly at the pebbled nub.  When both nipples were standing high, shiny with his saliva, he sat up.

“Where are your nipple clamps?”

“In my jewelry box.”

He climbed off me and went to the bathroom, returning a moment later with the gold discs.

“These won’t be on as long this time, so I’m going to make them tight.”

I watched as his long fingers pressed the clamps to my skin, wincing as he secured each one.  He licked the tops of my nipples, red and hard and I held my breath.  His hands went behind my head and he spread my hair over the pillow, then stood up and looked at me, a slow smile spreading over his face.  Then he turned and without a word, left the room.  I was stunned and confused, until he returned a moment later.  He’d gotten a glass of water, his cigarettes and his phone.

“You’re so beautiful; I want to enjoy this for a while.” He said, lighting a cigarette and sitting on the side of the bed next to me.

When he said I was beautiful, I believed him but even more than his words, the way he looked at me made me feel it, made me feel desired.   He smoked and watched me, occasionally reaching out to trail a finger down my leg or lightly squeeze a nipple, or lay his hand over my mound and press down until my hips moved.  As soon as I’d respond, he’d pull back until I was still.  I knew he was holding back on purpose, building the anticipation by making me wait, by making himself wait.  Being conscious of his game didn’t make it any easier to accept and when he slid his fingers into the top of my underwear I groaned.

“Touch me.”

He smiled and putting his cigarette out, stood up with his phone in his hand.  He walked to the foot of the bed and took a picture.

“Jesus.” He said, looking at the result. 

I wanted to tell him to stop, could feel my cheeks heating with self-consciousness.  It was one thing when he looked at me, but entirely another to have him taking photos.  And yet, when I watched him, saw his reaction to each picture, I couldn’t.  It was too exciting for me to see the effect I had on him.

He moved around the bed, taking shots from different angles, telling me how he wanted me, how to place my leg, reminding me to look at him.  Finally putting his phone down, he took his shirt off and got on the bed between my legs.  He slipped my panties off, kissing lightly along the insides of my legs and lay down.  His tongue swirled over my abdomen and he bit gently at my thighs, moving around my lower body, tongue and lips everywhere except where I now desperately needed them.  My hips were moving in circles, trying to get closer to him but he drew out the sweet torture until I asked, begged for more.

“Benedict please, put your mouth on me.”

He covered me, sucking my flesh into his mouth and I bucked against him.  He draped one arm over my hips, holding me down and drove his tongue into my folds, licking, lapping at me.  I moaned and spread my legs wider, needing more.  Raising his head he watched me as he pressed his fingers onto my clitoris, circling, insistently driving me toward release.  I shouted something unintelligible as his mouth closed over my clit.  He alternated sucking and drawing me between his teeth with quick strokes of his tongue until I was groaning, pushing myself at him.

“Oh, Jesus, I’m…” I shrieked, yanking against my stockings as I came explosively, straining toward him.

As I lay gasping, he rested his head on my thigh and waited.  When my breathing had slowed, he removed his trousers and moved up the bed, his hands running up my arms to grasp my wrists while he kissed me, his weight pushing me into the mattress while his tongue slid over my teeth.  Straddling me again, he rose onto his knees and pushed his hips toward my face, his hand moving on his rigid shaft.

“Suck me.  Take me into your gorgeous mouth and suck me.”

I opened to him and as he came forward, I closed my lips around him and drew him in.  He sighed and started to move and with my wrists bound, his weight on my chest, I was helpless, just as he’d wanted me.  He set the pace, not going too deeply but moving quickly, fucking my mouth with short strokes.  I sucked hard, watching his face, his eyes closed, while he breathed sharply through his mouth.  I spread my tongue wide as he stroked into me and he grunted when I pointed the tip of it, pressing hard against the underside of his thick cock.  I couldn’t pull back or move away and my jaw had begun to ache when suddenly, his speed increased.  Every time his hips swayed he brushed against my nipples, throbbing in their clamps.  I moaned loudly around his girth and he slowed, his eyes opening, locking onto mine.

“I’m so tempted to come in your mouth.  I do love watching when you swallow, hearing the sounds you make.”  He was still moving between my lips, “Or maybe I’ll flip you onto your belly, it’s been ages since I fucked your ass.”

He knew the effect his voice had on me and when he talked like this, was filthy, I loved it.  My hips were rising off the bed as I sucked him, anticipating, eager to find out what else he’d decide to do with my body.  He slowly pulled out of my mouth, his wet cock bouncing against his belly.  Kneeling beside me, he carefully lifted me and turned me over.

“Get on your knees.”

Moving behind me, he put his hands on my ass, digging his fingers into my muscles.  One long finger went into my slit, slick and hot and he twisted his hand until I was gasping.

“Mmm Kai, you’re impossible to resist.”

He held himself to me, rubbing his cock in my heat until I pushed back hard against him, asking for what I wanted.

“Benedict, fuck me, please.”

He teased, entering me slowly, pulling out.  The smooth head of his penis penetrated again, slipped out, over and over until I was swearing.  I couldn’t understand his control when I was nearly delirious with need.

“Damn it Benedict, don’t…”

His hand slapped down sharply on my buttock twice and I yelped in shock.  He spanked me again, three stinging blows as I wailed, pulling at my tied wrists.

“Who do you think you’re speaking to?  If you want something, you ask and I’ll decide if you get it.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, I…” I bit off my apology, furious that he’d spanked me without warning, but betrayed by my own body as ripples of arousal ran through me as a result of it.  I wanted what I wanted. “Benedict don’t tease me, please, I need you.”

He sank himself into me and I whined as he filled me, gripping my hips, holding me steady as he set a punishing rhythm.  My head dropped onto my bound arms, his body smacking against me, balls hitting my clit as I torqued my hips into him.  I felt a wet finger press against my ass, slide inside me and his pace never slackened.

“More, please, I want more.”

He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled, bringing me higher and he eased a second finger into my tight hole, moving his hand in time with his deep strokes into my pussy.  I was stretched tight around him, my nipples pulsing in their clamps; his grunts of pleasure spurring me on.  All at once, it hit me and I came, convulsing around his cock and his fingers.  He jerked against me, all rhythm lost and he was moaning; low, primal sounds as he went deep and let go.

He fell hard onto me, pushing me flat, his breath hot and heavy in my ear, not moving for the longest time.

“If you’d just untie my hands,” I said, “I could happily sleep like this.”

He eased himself off me, out of me, kissing all the way down my spine, “I’ll be back to let you up in just a second.”

He went to the bathroom and washed his hands then came back to the bed with my small scissors.  Cutting me free from the headboard, he rubbed my wrists where the stockings had left marks.  I sat up and he passed me the glass of water from the nightstand.  I drank and passed the glass back to him. 

Rising onto my knees, I undid the hooks that held the corset closed at the front and let it fall away, exhaling with relief.  Ben reached out, his fingers running over the red lines on my torso.

“That looks painful.”

“How do you do that?  Sound concerned and turned on at the same time?”

He grinned and shrugged.

“It’s not too bad,” I said, “I probably laced it up a little tighter than I should have.  Would you like to remove these?” I pointed at the clamps on my breasts.

He took them off one at a time, licking each nipple and blowing cool air over it as I breathed through my teeth at the ache.

“Compared to last time?” he asked.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” I smiled. 

Hours later, in the soft grey light of early morning, I woke to his hand between my legs, his mouth sucking softly at my breast.

“What are you doing?” I asked groggily, pushing his head away from my chest.

“Did you know you moan in your sleep when I touch you?”

“Ben…” I rubbed my face with my hands, trying to wake up, “How could I know that if I’m asleep?”

I felt him smile, where his face rested against me, “You do, my beautiful girl.  You moan and you move into my hand when I touch you here.”

His hand pushed further between my thighs, his fingers sliding into my slippery crease.  He was right, judging by my condition, I responded to him even in my sleep.

“Come closer,” he said, pulling me onto my side to face him, his hardness pressing against my stomach.

He reached down and put his hand behind my knee, raising my leg and bringing it over his hip.  He thrust toward me, brushing his cock against my pussy lips and despite my half asleep state I grasped him in my hand, guiding him inside me.  I wound my arms around his neck and he buried his face in my hair, whispering to me.

“Before I go, I’m going to have you as many times, in as many ways as I possibly can.  I’m going to leave you aching, so that every time you move you think of me.”

In the half dark, I moved my hand to caress his cheek.

“Leave me missing you; leave me aching if that’s what you need, Ben.  But don’t do it because you think I need to hurt to remember what it feels like to have you inside my body, to remember the smell of you and how you taste.  When you’re away, I can’t think of anything but you.  When you’re here I can’t think of anything but you.  I love you and I’ll always be here when you come home.”

He kept me close, rocking between my legs, his hand softly kneading my thigh where it rested on his hip.  I put my hand on the back of his neck and held him, our lips just touching, and we breathed into each other.   We moved slowly, neither of us in a hurry for this closeness to end, neither of us frantic or desperate, simply breathing, feeling.  We moved so slowly that I could feel when he was nearly there, was aware of him throbbing inside me moments before his breath hitched in his throat.

“It’s alright Ben, you don’t need to wait for me.”

“Yes I do,” he said, biting down on his lip, “this time I do.”

Gently, he rolled us so I was under him and he bent to my breast, his hips undulating against me and still, he moved with a languor that would have been maddening if it wasn’t so perfect.  He sucked at my nipples, circling them with his pointed tongue until they were peaked and sensitive.  When he moved up to kiss me, his mouth warm and tender, my nipples pressed against his chest, his soft hair tickling as he stroked into me.  I lifted one leg, wrapping it around his waist and he groaned as we shifted, his angle changing, deeper.

“Help me Ben, I’m so close.”

Only now did he speed up, his already deep thrusts getting longer and powerful waves of joy and satisfaction flooded through me as I cried his name, my face buried in his neck as he surrendered with me, shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.  He claimed my lips again, breathing hard as we kissed, clinging to each other, neither wanting to be the first to let go.  Finally, he raised his head and looked at me.

“Kai…” he hesitated.

“Ben…” I prompted, smiling dreamily up at him. 

 “Kai…” he paused again, smiled, then shook his head, “never mind my love, it’ll keep.  Go back to sleep.”

 


	17. Boundless as the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble in paradise aka timing is everything...

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 17 – Boundless as the Sea

 “What is that fantastic smell?”  I said, walking into the kitchen as I tied the belt of Ben’s robe around my waist. 

He was at the stove, barefoot and wearing jeans and a t-shirt.  He put the spatula down on the counter and turned, taking me in his arms, kissing me good morning.

“I’m fairly certain it’s you.”

I grinned up at him, “I’m fairly certain I don’t smell like cinnamon.”

“Hmm, no perhaps not.  Bergamot, as always.  And,” he leaned in, his nose pressed to my neck, “and possibly a whiff of brimstone.”

Chuckling, I turned my face to kiss his cheek.

“It’s French toast.  I’m making you breakfast.  Though, now you’ve slept so late, I suppose it’s brunch.”

“Sorry about that.  If I hadn’t been woken in the middle of the night by some sex maniac…”

“Oh my poor darling; was it awful for you?” he asked, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“It was O.K.  I mean, I didn’t hate it.” I said with a shrug.

“I thought it was pretty good actually.  You’re getting spoiled.”

“I really am.  And it’s your fault.”

I sat down and Ben brought me a mug of coffee.  He must have been up for a while because there was a vase full of daisies on the table and a bowl of fruit, already cut up.  I drank my coffee, watching as he turned off the burner under the frying pan and opened the oven, removing a platter piled high with thick golden-brown slices of heavenly smelling French toast.  Transferring a few pieces to a plate, he carried it over to the table and sat, putting the plate in front of himself.   He picked up the bottle of maple syrup my Dad had sent from back home, and drizzled it over his breakfast.  He looked at me, one eyebrow raised.

“How are you going to eat if you’re sitting all the way over there?”

“I didn’t realize we only owned one plate.”

“Yes and only one fork.  Sadly, we’ll have to share.”  He turned in his chair and patted his leg with a grin.

I picked up my coffee and walked around the table to sit on his lap.  He put his arm around me and picked up the fork in his other hand, cutting a slice from the corner of the toast.  He held it up and I leaned in, taking the first bite.  It was soft and eggy, fragrant with cinnamon and absolutely delicious.

“Oh my god!”

“It’s good?”

“No, it’s perfect.”

We shared what he’d put on his plate and when a little drop of syrup landed on his lip, I licked it off.  Taking my cup from my hand he placed it on the table and reached into the bowl of fruit, picking up a piece with his fingers.

“Mango?” He offered.

He held the fruit to my mouth and I opened, letting him slide it between my lips and I sucked the juice from his fingers.  He reached for another piece and I took it between my teeth then leaned forward until our lips touched and he took it from my mouth.  I shifted on his lap, sliding my leg over his until I was facing him and I reached behind me, taking another slice of mango from the bowl.  I ran it along his lower lip until he opened his mouth.  I pulled back and waited for him to look at me.

“Have I told you lately that you have the most beautiful mouth I’ve ever seen?”

He smiled and shook his head.  I ran the slice of fruit over his lips and when he opened his mouth again, I tossed the mango over my shoulder and kissed him as he laughed against my mouth.  His hands pulled at the belt around my waist as I sucked the sweetness from his lips, maple and mango and him. 

“Ben?”

“Yes my love?” He asked, his warm hands sliding inside the robe, over my skin, pulling me to his chest.

“Take these off.” I said, tugging at the button of his jeans and I stood up, dropping the robe to the floor.

He unzipped his jeans, sliding them down and then pulling his shirt over his head.  I settled back on his lap, his rapidly hardening shaft pressed between us.  Latching onto his mouth, I stroked his chest with my fingertips, heat gathering between my legs as I pushed against his groin.  His hands rested on my waist, gently squeezing while I moved my lips to his neck, sucking at his skin.  Reaching down, I took him in my hand, angling my hips so I could rub myself along his length.

“Oh god Kai, please.”

“Please what Ben?” I asked softly, looking into his eyes, delighted by the urgency in his voice.

“Please don’t make me wait, I want you.”

“Do you?” I asked, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “What if I’m not ready?”

“You are though, I can feel it.” He answered.

“That’s just physical Ben.” I said, smiling to myself, “It’s so much more complicated than that for me.”

His hand moved from my waist, his fingers sliding between our bodies, finding my clitoris and rubbing slowly.

“Is it?” he asked.

“Yes, it is.  Would you talk to me Ben?”

He leaned back and looked at me, a slow smile spreading across his face.  He knew perfectly well that I was as ready as he was, but he also knew I loved the sound of his voice.  And I knew he’d give me what I was asking for.  His fingers maintained their slow circling on my sensitive bud and his other hand came up to roll an erect nipple between his fingers.

“What do you want me to tell you?  How I love the softness of your skin and that I’ve learned to watch here,” his finger left my nipple and moved to trace along my collar bone and up my neck, “for you to start to blush because that means you like what I’m doing?  Do you want to hear how the smell of you drives me mad, and that when I’m holding you in my arms I can’t even think straight?  Or do you want to hear that when you’re twisting your hips like that, I can’t wait to get inside you?”

“Oh yes, that’s working.” 

I lifted up and his hand went from my clitoris to grasp his cock, holding himself for me while I moved down and he pressed against my opening.  I lowered myself onto his shaft, the familiar but still thrilling sensation of being completely filled by him sending a shiver through my body.  I moved slowly, rising and falling until he was fully sheathed inside me and we both sighed as I came to rest on his lap, squeezing my thighs tightly around his.

“What does it feel like Ben, for you?” I asked.

I moved my hips in circles, my hands on his face, caressing his cheeks and neck as we stared into each other’s eyes and I felt the muscles flex in his jaw.  I was surprised to see his cheeks redden.

“After all the sexy and raunchy and romantic things you’ve ever said to me, that’s the question that makes you shy?”

“Can you hold still for a minute?  I can’t come up with the words when you’re moving like that.” He said, sounding very serious.

I stilled, puzzled, unsure what he was thinking that had changed my little game into something else.  He put his arms around my waist and held me tightly.

“I don’t want to say anything that sounds like I’m comparing you with anyone else, but if you really want the answer to that, if you really want to know what being with you feels like to me, I have to.”

“I see,” I said quietly, ‘I do want to know; I want to understand how it is for you.  Tell me?”

He took a deep breath, “Sex has always been different for me when it was with someone I cared about, rather than just a shag.  Quick, easy, fairly anonymous sex is alright, it still feels good, but you might as well be having a wank; it’s all about the end point.  When it was with someone I had real feelings for, it wasn’t that way at all.  It’s not only that I cared more about making sure that it was as good for her as it was for me, it actually felt better because of the emotional connection.  And that’s how I thought it would always be, until you.  I’ve given up questioning why you make me feel the way you do because I don’t think there’s any real answer to that.  I feel like we’re supposed to be together, like we were made for each other and not only emotionally or intellectually, but physically.  I’ve never felt anything like I feel when I’m with you.  I can’t get enough of you.  The more we’re together, the more you give me, the more I want.  I thought maybe when we’d been together longer, when I was able to stay home for a while and we weren’t always thinking about the next time I’d be leaving that this need I have for you would ease, but it hasn’t.  It’s gotten worse; I want you all the time.”

My heart was thudding in my chest as I listened to him, the words tumbling from his mouth at ninety miles an hour.  His answer wasn’t at all what I’d expected; it was so much more.

“Do you ever wish the rest of the world would disappear so it was just us?”

“Always; it’s like I want to shut out all the noise so I can concentrate everything on you.” He said.

“Yes; exactly.  This can’t be normal, can it?”

He laughed softly, “Well, we’re fucked if it isn’t, because I have no idea how to change it.”

“I don’t want to change it,” I said, nearly breathless with exhilaration, “I didn’t even want to say it out loud because I was scared that would somehow ruin it.  I’m so glad you told me it was the same for you.”

“You asked me.”

“I hate to tell you this, but that wasn’t what I meant.” I grinned as he looked at me in surprise.

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

I laughed, “Ben, do you know how hard it is to get a word in once you start talking?”

“So, what were you asking?”

 “I wanted to know what it felt like for you physically.  When you were in Venezuela and we had that Skype call, you said some things that made me wonder; what does it feel like for you, what do I feel like to you?  But I’m so happy you misunderstood and told me what you did, because that’s even better than I could have hoped for.  Now I know for sure that you feel what I do.”

“Did you doubt it?”

“Not that you love me.  But I didn’t know if you also felt this…this weird pull, the connection that I feel.  The more you give me, the more I want,” I repeated his words, “I think I’m addicted to you Ben.”

He laughed out loud and his hand went behind my neck, bringing our mouths together and I could feel him smiling even as he kissed me.  I felt such happiness knowing that we were feeling the same way and all I wanted now was to show him.

“Can I move now?” I asked, pulsing my inner muscles, squeezing him, still hard inside me.

“Could you just keep doing that?”

“This?” I asked, tightening and releasing around him.

“Mm hmm, that.” His arms wrapped around my back, his fingertips ghosting over my skin as his eyes closed and he rested his head on my chest.

Trying to be patient for him, listening to the sound of his breathing as I pumped him with my muscles, I held off as long as I could stand it.  When his head turned and he sucked my nipple into his mouth, I gave up and began to move on him, incapable of keeping still.  I kept my movements to a minimum, holding him deep within myself and barely swaying my hips, still flexing for him, but increasingly desperate for friction.  His hands came around to my breasts, pushing them together, his lips and tongue moving from one to the other and making me fight to control the motion of my hips.

“Ben, I need…”

He pushed a hand between our bodies, his thumb stroking hard against my clit.

“Try not to move Kai, please.”

My head fell forward, my lips on his neck, along the top of his shoulder, sucking and nipping.  I was moaning into his skin as I tried to give him what he asked for, tried to ignore my own growing urgency, to focus on the sweet ache of holding him inside me.  I dug my fingers into his biceps as he began to groan, his mouth open, tongue sliding over my flesh and this time, when I squeezed tightly around his hardness I felt an answering throb, a pulsation as he began to come.  His body went rigid as his head fell back and he let out a guttural cry, his hands on my hips pushing me down onto him.  I gathered him to me and held him tightly as he shuddered, his breath rasping in his throat.

I made no demands, utterly satisfied in knowing I’d given him what he’d asked from me.  His hands slid under my bum and I gasped as he stood, lifting me.  He turned, taking three steps and putting my back against the wall, his mouth searching for mine and he kissed me hard.  I hung on, legs wrapped around him as he plunged into me, moving quickly, wanting to make me come while he was still hard.  His strokes were long and rough and I cried out with every deep thrust.  My face was pressed against his hair, damp with sweat, his smell filling my nose, the power of him as our wet bodies smacked together enough to send me over the edge, calling his name.  He slid slowly to his knees on the floor, keeping me close and we stayed there, kissing and whispering to each other until we could move again.

That afternoon, I was lying on my back on the sofa, reading a book.  Ben was between my legs, his chin resting on his hands which were folded together over my stomach as he studied the script he had propped up on me.  My phone rang and he reached out and grabbed it from the coffee table, passing it to me.  I looked at the call display and my heart started to race.

“Hello Bev.” I answered, Ben looking up and watching my face.

“Kai, sorry to have kept you waiting so long, but it’s been complicated, holding business meetings from a hospital bed.”

“Not to worry Bev, I understand complicated.” I grinned.

She laughed, “Yes, quite.  Look, I’m to be released from hospital tomorrow and I wondered if you could come by the house on Monday.  We have some options to discuss with you.”

“Sure Bev, that works for me.”

We set a time and hung up.

“Monday at 11,” I told Ben, “I’m going to her house to talk.”

“I’m going to go give Robert a call right now and ask him to find you that accountant and a lawyer to help with this.  I’ll ask him to call you as soon as he has names and numbers, alright?”

I nodded as he stood up and he began to walk away, heading for his office.  He stopped and came back.

“Are you alright?”

“I don’t know.  I might be having a panic attack.” I said, sitting up.

“No you aren’t.  There’s nothing to panic about.” He said, stroking my hair, “You’ll go see Bev, hear what she has to say and then set up a meeting with the lawyer and discuss it with him.  You don’t have to make any decisions right away and you can call me any time.”

“You’ll be working, I hate to distract you.”

“I’d be more distracted if I didn’t hear from you and had to keep wondering what was going on.  Keep me in the loop; call me if you need to talk or to worry or to yell.”

“You’re sure?”

“Don’t be silly, of course I’m sure.”

He kissed me lightly on the forehead and left to call Robert from his office.  I sat and stewed, trying to imagine what Bev would offer and what my answer might be to each of the many possibilities.  How much was enough?  How much would I need to own of ‘Down to Earth’ to feel truly invested and to be able to convince the Immigration board that I was?  I knew I was going to drive myself crazy if I sat around the flat all day, so when Ben was off the phone, I asked if he felt like going out.

“If you’d like; what do you want to do?”

“Can we go for a walk?  Even if we just go to the grocery store and pick up something for dinner, I need to get out of here for a while.”

We walked through the neighbourhood, enjoying the fall sunshine.  It was Saturday, so there were children out riding their bikes; people working in their gardens or washing their cars.  Ben said hello to a few neighbours, people he’d known since he’d moved into the area, but mostly, he avoided eye contact, a defense mechanism against being recognized.  We walked toward the shops with our arms around each other while I thought and planned and considered.

“Stop it,” Ben said, “You’re going to drive yourself ‘round the bend.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yes.  It’s like all your emotions are right at the surface and I can see them as clearly as if they were written on your forehead.”

“Is that right?  How annoying.”

“Not for me.  I love that you’re terrible at pretending.  It means I don’t have to guess how you’re feeling.  Maybe I just know you well enough by now but I think it’s wonderful that I can read you like that, that I can feel it coming off you in waves.  Right now, you’re concerned, agitated and since there’s nothing you can do about it until Monday, you need to try and let it go.  And tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“You just did.  Now I’m thinking about that and how if there’s ever anything I need to hide from you, I won’t be able to.”

“Why would you ever need to hide anything from me?”

“What if I wanted to surprise you?  Throw you a birthday party or something?  I’m going to have to start practicing now, just in case.”

“Oh that should be fun, you, practicing lying.  Well, best of luck.” 

“You’re such a jerk.”

He was grinning to himself as we walked into the store, clearly pleased at having distracted me.  He picked up a basket and we wandered up and down the aisles, figuring out what to make for supper and gathering supplies.  As we stood in the check-out line, I saw his name on the front of a tabloid and the temptation to read the story was there, but only for a second.  I’d learned better by now and I turned my back, reaching for a bag of groceries and we walked out the door.

It was after 4 o’clock and it felt like autumn, a slight chill in the air now that the sun had started to fall behind the taller buildings.  As we walked home, Ben told me about a script he’d been sent that he was quite excited about.

“It sounds pretty different from most of the other things you’ve been offered recently.  When was the last time you did something funny?”

“God, not since…I can’t even remember.  Radio probably.”

“Comedy is supposed to be harder than drama.  Do you think that’s true?”

“In front of a live audience, I think so, yes.  With a film, it depends on the script, but I’m really eager to try.  I’d like to challenge myself.”

“Then do it, shake things up a little.  You make me laugh all the time, I’m sure you can do funny.  You’ve definitely had your moments in ‘Sherlock’.”

“Do you think so?” He asked, looking pleased.

“Absolutely.  You’re not as funny as Martin, but still, pretty good.”

“How can I be so in love with someone so awful?  I really don’t understand it at all.”

“It’s because I make up for it by being bloody marvelous in the kitchen.  And in the bedroom.”

“And in my office.  Oh, and you’ve been rather interesting in the bathroom once or twice as well.”

“That’s the only reason you want to buy a house.  We’re running out of rooms in the flat.”

“You know, there’s a rather good bed in the spare room.”

“Bed,” I sneered as I unlocked the front door, “Beds are for amateurs.”

“And for men who have insatiable partners and who are in need a bit of a lie down.”

“Are you complaining?” I asked, dropping my grocery bag on the counter.

“Merely stating a fact, I assure you.” He grinned, “Although, some mornings I wake up so sore I can barely move.”

“Next time you’re sore, say something.  I’ll give you a massage.”

He stared at me.

“You give massages?  How is this is the first I’m hearing of massages?”

“You should have told me ages ago that you were having trouble keeping up.  I’d have taken better care of you; I don’t want to wear you out.”  I laughed, backing away from him as my phone started ringing from the other room.

“Hi Jemmy,” I answered, “What’s up?”

I could hear Ben putting the shopping away and washing the vegetables while I spoke to Jem.  We made plans for later in the week and I hung up.

“That was Jem calling from the hospital; Chloe had the baby this morning.” I announced.

“Oh, how marvelous!  Everyone healthy and happy?”

“Yes, Jem says she’s gorgeous.  Fat and sassy and looks just like Liam.  I’m going over to see them on Wednesday.”

“Damn, I wish I could come along.”  He said, leaning against the counter and pulling me close, “I can’t wait ‘til we get your visa organized and we can start making plans for our own.”

The longing in his voice made me smile and I reached up for a kiss before I said, “Even if things go well with Bev, it’ll be a while yet.”

“Oh I know, paperwork and everything, it takes time.  But we can start to think about it.”

“Ben,” I said hesitantly, “we can start to think about it, but if I get what I want from Bev, you understand that I’ll be working a lot more than I was before, don’t you?”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that if I’m taking over ‘Down to Earth’, I’m going to be really, really busy, at least for a while.”

“But…I thought, once we knew for sure you could stay, that we’d start trying.”

“I’m not saying we won’t, but we need to discuss it, properly.  And we haven’t.”

I stepped around him to fill the kettle and plug it in.  

“Let’s talk about it now,” He said, “because as far as I’m concerned, the sooner the better.”

“The sooner the better to have the talk or to have a baby?”

“Both.”

I’d always known how he felt about having children, but we hadn’t talked about it in a long time.  Things between us were really good, but there was still so much up in the air that was out of our hands and I wasn’t sure if we were in any position to take that next step now, on top of everything else.  I folded my arms across my chest and leaned on the counter across from him.

“If Bev makes me an offer that we’d be happy with, I’ll be working more than full time for the next several months.  And that’s before we even know if my visa is approved, which will probably also take a couple of months.”

“So, that would be November or early December, right?  That’s perfect because I’ll still be here at home.  And you always said that business slowed down over the winter, so once you get your feet under you that might be the perfect time, before things get busy again in the spring.  You’d have time to hire and train someone to help you in the office.”

“If that’s how it all works out, then yes, the timing would be good.  For me.”

He frowned, “What does that mean?”

“Prague in January, right?  And then where?  How many projects do you already have confirmed for next year?” I asked, turning the kettle off and pouring boiling water into the teapot.

“Four for sure,” He said quietly, “and one other that’s still possible.”

“And are any of them being filmed here?” I asked.

“One.” He admitted.

“And how many films do you have coming out next year?”

“Two for sure, maybe three.”

“So, press, interviews; more travel.  I’ll fly to wherever you are, as often as I can and you’ll come home in between, whenever you can.” I put my arms around him, “But Ben, if we’re going to do this, I don’t want to be by myself the whole time.  I want you to be able to see it happening, not to hear about everything on the phone.  I don’t want you to miss it all, the everyday things, like going to doctor’s appointments with me or the important things like… the first time it kicks.”

“No, I don’t want to miss any of it either and I certainly don’t want you to feel like you’re alone.  But I also don’t want to wait for another year.”

“Ben, please don’t look so sad.” I stroked his cheek, “I’m not saying no, I’m saying we need to plan ahead.  It’s not as simple as saying, O.K. let’s have a baby now.”

“I suppose there’s no point in trying to make plans right now anyway, is there?”

“Don’t put it like that; you make it sound so hopeless.  I think we have to try and be optimistic and that means we should keep making plans.  It also means we need to have a serious look at your schedule, because from a biological standpoint, we will have to find a way to spend time together if we’re going to make this happen.” I said, trying to make him smile.

“I should think that will be the least of our problems,” he said, obliging me with a grin that I noticed didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I have to admit, I haven’t really put much thought into what it’s going to be like to have you working again.  I’ve rather been enjoying having you unemployed and all to myself.”

“You may have been on to something when you said I should find someone to help in the office.  At least then, I could work from home sometimes when you are here and it would make it easier to get away and join you when you aren’t.  I’ve gotten used to being with you too.  I’m already dreading Monday.”

“I’m already dreading January, I was looking forward to having you there with me.”

“And I might still be able to, for part of the time.  And anyway, who knows?  By then you’ll probably be sick of the sight of me and ready for a break.” I teased.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, shocking me with the fierceness of his answer, “and don’t say things like that, not even as a joke.”

We had been standing with our arms around each other and now his fingers were clenched at my waist and when I looked into his eyes, his distress was plain.

“Ben, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to upset you, I wasn’t serious.”

“You know something Kai?  That may be the one thing I don’t love about you; the way you’ll just throw out a comment like that as though it meant nothing.”

 “It didn’t mean anything,” I said, putting my hands on top of his, “I was trying to be funny.”

“It’s not funny to me when you say things about us getting tired of each other or about us wanting to be apart.  I don’t like it in the least that you think that’s something to joke about.  Do you not realize how hurtful that is?”

“Clearly not, or I wouldn’t have said it.”  I squeezed my hands over his, to calm him.

“And especially now, when we’ve only just been talking about how much we’re going to be apart next year and what that really means in terms of our whole future and you’re making jokes?  Are you taking any of this seriously?” He spat.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I am.  I was only trying to make you laugh, not to dismiss how you were feeling.”

“How I was feeling?  That’s awfully telling, isn’t it?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“For all your talk of moving forward and making plans, do you realize that whenever it’s me that mentions our future, you find a way to derail it?  You always find a reason to say no when it’s my idea.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, utterly bewildered.

“Oh, it always sounds perfectly rational when you say it, but when it comes down to it, it’s you, finding an excuse to not do something.  I talk about children and you bring up my schedule, I take you to see a house and all you can say is that it has potential.  Jesus Christ Kai, you told my mother you didn’t care if we never got married.  How is that supposed to make me feel?”

“Hold on a minute Ben,” I put my hands on his shoulders, trying to comfort him, “I didn’t bring up your schedule; I brought up our schedules.  We’ve looked at one house and I also told you that day that even if the house wasn’t perfect, I’ve never been happier.  And as for what I told your mother, I said it wasn’t important to me, but that if it was important to you, I’d do it and as far as I’m concerned, that doesn’t just mean getting married, that means anything, anything you want, I’ll do it.  I don’t know how you can possibly say that I’m not taking our future seriously.  I may look at all sides of a problem when I’m looking for a solution, but I’m not making excuses and it doesn’t mean I’m saying no, it means I’m trying to figure out the best way to get us both to the same place.”

“It doesn’t always sound that way to me.  A lot of the time it sounds like you trying to find a way out of things that you don’t want to do.” 

 “Now who’s being stupid?” I asked and as I tried to take a step back from him, his hands tightened on my waist, “And if this is so upsetting to you, why is this the first time you’re bringing it up?  Why haven’t you said anything before?”

“Because I’m only just realizing it now!”  He stopped, momentarily speechless.  He was breathing fast, his jaw clenching in frustration. 

He looked me straight in the eye and went on, “Can we have a baby?  No, and here are the reasons why not.  Let’s buy a house.  No, and here are the reasons why not.  Can I give you this money?  No, and here are the reasons why not.  Every fucking time.  You’re always saying how you have to face your fears head on if you want to beat them, but you know something Kai?  I think it’s bullshit.  I think you’re in denial.  I think you’re scared of us, of getting serious and you’re putting up one roadblock after another so you don’t have to take responsibility for your fear and that makes me wonder, at what point are you just going to cut and run like you did when you moved here?”

My mouth was suddenly so dry I couldn’t even swallow.  I stared at him for a long moment, a cold, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

 “That’s what you think of me?  How can you possibly think that and say that you love me?  If that’s what you think, then you don’t know me at all.”

“I do love you and I think I know you better than anyone.  Right now, I may know you better than you know yourself.   If I didn’t think it was true Kai, I would never have said it.”

 “Let go of me.”  I whispered.

“Why?”

“I can’t talk to you right now.  I can’t even look at you.  Let go.”

 “What happened to your rule about never walking away?” He asked quietly, not moving his hands.

“I have nothing to say to you.” I answered, looking at the floor.

“I’m not letting go, so you’d better think of something.”

“Why?”  My voice rose as I began to lose my temper, “If you think I don’t believe in a future for us then what’s the point?  I don’t understand how you could say those things to me when nearly every decision I’ve made since I met you has been about our future, about building something lasting with you.  And after what you said this morning, about how you felt like we were made for each other, how can we be seeing this so differently?”

I put my hands against his chest and tried to push away but he only tightened his grip.

 “So talk to me, tell me how I’m wrong.  I’ve told you what this feels like to me.  I need to know how it feels to you.”  He said gently.

“I don’t understand how after everything I’ve ever told you, about myself and what motivates me, that you could tell me you think it’s bullshit.  You’ve taken the one thing that I believe in the most in myself and told me you think it’s a lie, that I’m not living up to the thing that changed my entire life.  How do you think I feel?  I feel like you’ve smashed me into a thousand pieces and I don’t even know how to start putting them back together.  You said you could read my emotions like they were written on my face?  What are you seeing right now?” 

And this time, when I pushed at his hands, he let them fall and I walked away.  I went upstairs and closed the bedroom door behind me, too angry even to shout or throw something and too hurt to have let myself fall apart in front of him and give him the satisfaction of comforting me.

I made my way to the bathroom, undressing and stepping into the shower and only then, when I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear me over the sound of the running water did I let myself cry.  I sank to the floor, letting the water flow over my head and bawled until my tears dried up and I felt empty.  When the water started to get cold, I finally got out.  I sat on the bed, wrapped in a towel, my throat sore, head pounding and tried to figure out what to do.  My options were limited, since I’d stupidly trapped myself in the bedroom without cigarettes or a drink or even an escape route, because I wasn’t ready to face him.  I wasn’t ready to tell him that it wasn’t only that I felt as though he’d broken something in me, I felt as though he’d broken us.

 I put on a nightshirt and climbed into bed hoping for sleep so I wouldn’t have to think anymore but I tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable with his words and my own circling around and around in my head like vultures over a carcass.  I was still awake hours later when the bedroom door opened.  He came in and sat on the edge of the bed, his voice quiet in the dark.

“Kai, please, we need to talk.”

I rolled onto my side, refusing to even look at him in the faint light filtering in from the hallway.

“Go away Ben, I don’t know what to say to you yet.”  My voice was hoarse from crying.

“I don’t know what to say either, but we have to try.”

I sat up and pulled the duvet around my body, physically insulating myself from him.

“I’m going to turn the light on.”

He turned the switch on the lamp on the bedside table.  Next to the lamp he had placed two glasses.

“Do you want some water?”

I shook my head.  He placed an ashtray and a pack of cigarettes on the bed next to me and waited as I took one, then reached out with his lighter, flicking it and waiting for me to light the cigarette.  I put it between my lips and held my hand open, staring at the lighter until he dropped it into my hand, aware that I was being childish but nevertheless unwilling to allow him to do anything for me, to connect with me in any way.  I lit the cigarette and dropped the lighter on the bed.  Then I smoked and waited.

 “I’m sorry I hurt you.  I had to say what I was thinking, but I lost my temper and I was harsher than I should have been.  If I could take it all back and start over, I would.”

“You can’t though.  You said what you said and you can’t make it go away by being sorry.”

“I know, but we can’t just leave it.  It won’t go away on its own; we have to talk about it.”

I could barely look at him because I was afraid if I did, I’d start to cry again and even more afraid that if I looked into his eyes, I’d give in and forgive him out of fear of what might happen if I didn’t, and that would solve nothing.  As I sat with my head down, I heard him light his own cigarette and wondered if he was waiting for me to speak because he wanted to know what I was thinking or if he simply didn’t know what to say to me.

“I’m scared Kai.” 

“So am I.”

“I’m scared you’re going to leave.”

“I’m scared that you don’t believe in me.”

“I never wanted to make you feel that way.  But I’ve been sitting downstairs for hours thinking and Kai?  I still don’t think I’m completely wrong.”

“I don’t understand at all how you can doubt my commitment to you.  It makes absolutely no sense to me.  I told you the day you asked me to move in with you that if I have you, everything else is just details.  I meant it then and I mean it now.  I can’t figure out how we got from there to here, to you thinking I’m afraid of making a life with you, simply because we have different ways of working through things.  Yes, I fought you over giving me money, but when I realized that it was likely the only way forward for us, I changed my mind.  Maybe the house we looked at is the right one and maybe it isn’t, but the fact that I didn’t ask you to buy it that day doesn’t have anything to do with how I feel about you.  And I don’t think it was unreasonable of me to want you to be around if I’m going to be pregnant.  How did we go from there to you thinking I’m afraid of having a life with you or that I’m going to run away?”

“It was right then, while we were talking.  I suddenly realized that you’re still afraid of something.  I don’t know what it is and maybe you don’t either, but we need to figure it out or we’ll never be able to get beyond where we are right now because you’ll still be looking for ways to avoid committing to me and I’ll always be waiting for you to decide it’s too much and to leave, and that’s no way to live.”

I took a last drag from my cigarette and put it out.  I stared at my hands, resting on the duvet and thought about what he was telling me.  I started to wonder if he might be right.  I had felt as though all of my arguments were reasonable, as though I was being perfectly rational when I considered all the little pieces that needed to come together for us to move in together or buy me a business or a farm or to have a baby.  But now I had to consider that maybe I had been looking for an escape plan.  I just couldn’t imagine why.  What did I have to be afraid of?  Ben was everything I could ever have hoped for in a partner; sweet, intelligent, funny and kind and I’d never felt about anyone the way I did about him.  When we were together, I felt whole.  So what was I doing, when I looked for reasons not to simply let go and be happy with him?

“What if you’re right?” I asked, “What if I am unconsciously sabotaging us?”

I tried to swallow around the lump in my throat, unable to look at him.

“I love you too much to give up, so we’ll talk about it until we figure out what’s going on.  We have to try.”

His voice broke and my resolve broke with it.  I reached for him and he took my hand, his fingers threading through mine and I moved across the bed into his arms.  We held each other, crying from relief, from the contact.  He undressed and we got into bed but we didn’t speak, afraid of saying anything that might break this fragile peace we’d made.  We lay with our arms around each other, careful and not moving, as though the emotions had scrubbed our skin raw, until eventually we fell asleep.

I woke to him kissing my forehead, cradling me to his chest and I opened my eyes, looking at him for a long time before I spoke.

“I love you.  No matter what happens, don’t ever forget that I love you.”

“How could I forget that?  It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s why I’ll never give up.  Can I kiss you?”

“Oh god, yes.  Yes please.”

He rolled me onto my back and our lips met, tentative at first, the sweetness of it almost like the first time we’d kissed.  His hand lay on my stomach, but I knew if he moved it, I’d stop him.  I wanted to feel close, connected to him, but I wasn’t ready to have sex.  The realization made me pull back before the kiss became something more.

“I’m going to get up.  Are you hungry?”

A frown swept across his face before he answered, “Starving.  Do you want some help in the kitchen?”

“Why don’t you shower while I get started and you can help when you’re done?”

I hopped out of bed and grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before heading to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.  I dressed in the loo, pulling my hair into a loose bun and opened the door to see him sitting on the bed.  I knew he wanted to ask, wanted to know why I’d pulled back from him but since I wasn’t sure myself, I avoided his eyes.

“All yours.” I said with false cheer and headed down to the kitchen to put the kettle on and start breakfast.

I was almost done when he came downstairs, so he set the table while I put the finishing touches on the meal.  I scooped eggs, sausages and fried potatoes onto our plates and we ate together, talking occasionally while the news played in the background.

Afterward, we cleaned up, Ben washing while I dried.

“What time are you leaving in the morning?” I asked, putting a plate in the cupboard.

“My car’s coming at 5.”

“Ew, that’s early.”

“Bradford’s about a four hour drive away.  They had originally wanted me to go up today, but I said no.  One less night away from home, from you.”  He said, pulling the plug to drain the sink.

“You sound so sad.  It’s only 4 days this time.  Surely we can handle 4 days.  And it’ll give me time to think.”

“I just hate leaving like this, after yesterday.  I wish I could stay until things felt right again, normal.”

“Maybe it’s actually the best thing.  There’s nothing like missing someone for reminding you how much you love them.” I passed him the towel so he could dry his hands.

He dropped the towel on the counter and held his arms open.  I stepped closer, my head against his chest while we hugged.  I tilted my face to look up at him and then stood on my toes, reaching for a kiss and his lips were soft on mine, moving so slowly.  His hand came up to cup the back of my head and the pressure on my mouth increased, his tongue flickering against my upper lip.  I stepped away, smiling to soften the blow.

“I need to do some laundry.  Is there anything you want washed?”

“I’d need to check.” His eyes searched my face, looking for reassurance, “A couple of shirts maybe.”

I gave him a quick peck on the mouth, went upstairs and picked up the laundry basket.  He followed me and stood in the door of the walk-in closet.

He dropped a handful of shirts into the basket and I waited for him to move, so I could leave the closet.  We faced each other, with me holding the laundry in front of my body, between us.

“Anything else?” I asked, my voice pitched too high, sounding wrong even to me.

“No, that’s it.  I think as long as I’m up here, I’ll start packing.”

“O.K, I’ll get this going and then I need to make some notes for my meeting tomorrow.”

He moved out of the doorway and I cut around him, heading for the washing machine.  I dumped clothes and soap into the washer and started the load.  I sat on the sofa with my notebook on my lap, staring at nothing and trying not to panic.  Whatever it had become, whatever else we had; our relationship had begun as a physical one.  Right from the beginning we’d had an undeniable attraction, a connection that we were lucky to have been able to build upon.  And since he’d gotten into bed with me last night, I’d been on tenterhooks, waiting for him to try to do more than kiss me or hold me in his arms.  I’d been ready to stop him because the idea of making love with him caused an anxious, clenching feeling in my belly and it scared the hell out of me because I had no idea why.

We passed the rest of the afternoon and evening with the stuff of everyday life.  We finished the laundry, I made my notes, worked outside on the terrace, Ben sat in his office returning emails and making telephone calls, we cooked supper together.  We kept our distance in a way that was, for us, unusual.  We always touched – a hand in the small of my back, my fingers tracing his jaw, leaning on each other as we sat watching television or reading – but not today.  And when he yawned and announced that he should be getting to bed, I said I’d have a bath and join him shortly.  Then I got in the tub and read the same three sentences in my book for an hour.

I walked into the dark bedroom and climbed into bed carefully, so I wouldn’t wake him.  Lying beside him, I listened to his breathing and knew he wasn’t sleeping.

“Ben?” I whispered.

“Come here.” He said.

I rolled onto my side, sliding my leg over his as he put his arms around me and his lips brushed my forehead.

“We’ll be alright.  This is enough for now.” He said, and I didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or me.  We lay together in the dark but it seemed to me we were still miles away from each other.

In the morning, he woke me to say goodbye by smoothing the hair from my face to kiss my cheek.

“My driver is here, I have to go.  Call me later and let me know what happens with Bev.  And it’s pouring rain, so I left the car keys on the table – I don’t want you to ride your bike in this weather.”

“O.K.” I said sleepily, “I love you Ben.”

“I love you too, beautiful girl.”

He tucked the duvet around me and was gone.  When my alarm woke me, hours later, I went downstairs to make my coffee.  The flat felt cold and empty without him here.  I sat at the table and lectured myself.  Today, I needed to concentrate, to put him from my mind and focus on Bev and ‘Down to Earth’.  And I kept reminding myself - as I got dressed, as I drove across London, as I stood on Bev’s landing and rang the doorbell. 

Her husband answered the door with a huge smile.

“Hullo Kai, how lovely to see you.”

“Gary, it’s been ages, how’ve you been?”

“Honestly, I’ve been better, but at least now that Beverly’s home, I can breathe a little easier, it’s been simply terrible without her here.  But look who I’m telling.” He said with a cheeky grin.

“Oh God, having Bev in the hospital recovering from an accident is hardly the same as having Ben away working.  I can’t even imagine how it’s been for you.”

“Frightening and then just busy, that’s how it’s been.  And I have to thank you for stepping in for her at work.  We’d have been in big trouble without your help.”

He told me to go upstairs to the bedroom and to let Bev know he’d bring tea.  I had always liked Gary, he was fun and smart and we got along well.  I went up the stairs and found Bev tucked up in bed on a pile of pillows.

“Look at you,” I said, “quite an improvement since the last time I saw you!”

She had put on lipstick, had some colour back in her cheeks and looked like herself in spite of the casts and bandages.

“I’m feeling so much better, especially since getting home.  What a treat to sleep in my own bed.  How have you been?”

“I’ve been a complete stress-case, thanks for asking.”

She snorted with laughter as Gary came through the door carrying a tray with teapot and cups.

“Grab a seat Kai,” he indicated a chair beside the window with a nod of his head, “make yourself comfortable.” 

He put the tray on the dresser and poured tea for all three of us.  He carried the cups and saucers over to us and joined Bev on the bed.

“So,” he said, “enough of the niceties, let’s talk.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “let’s.”  I waited for Bev or Gary to start and took a sip of tea while trying to keep my nerves at bay.

“I’ll cut right to the chase.  After talking this through with Gary and our accountant, here’s what I need to know…how serious are you?”

“Completely; I’m at the point in my life where I need to buckle down and start making a real plan for the future.  Even if this had nothing to do with my visa and finding a way to stay here, it’s time for me to make some changes.”

“That’s what I was hoping.  So, we’ve come up with two options:  one, you buy 49% of the business.  For the next couple of years, I’d operate like a silent partner, except for the big things and you’d take over most of the day to day running of the business.  And for the time being, until I’m back on my feet, you’d have to devote yourself full time.  Once I’m able, I could spell you off in the office and you could get back in the field some of the time and be more hands on or have the option to…travel, should you need to.” She said with a smile.

“Uh huh.  Or?”

“Or you buy the whole thing outright and Gary and I move to Spain.”

“Just for the record,” Gary said,” you should never try to play cards for a living.  You have the worst poker face I’ve ever seen.”

I started to laugh.  Gary and Bev were grinning at me, so obviously pleased at my reaction.

“And if I were to choose the first option, I assume I’d have first right of refusal when you were ready to retire completely?”

“Of course, that would only make sense.”

“Before I get too far ahead of myself, what are we talking about, price-wise?”

“Our accountant has written up our terms for you.  But in round figures, if you buy part of the company, it’s a little over 100,000 pounds.  If you decide to take on the whole thing, we’d sell for 250.”

“Jesus.  That’s a lot of money.” I said; my head spinning.

“Yes, it is, but between Gary’s pension and the sale, that’s our retirement plan.”

“Is that your way of saying you’re not flexible on the price?”

“Pretty much.  ‘Down to Earth’ has been my labour of love for more than twenty years and I don’t want to sell it to someone I don’t know; I’d prefer to pass it on to you and know that I’m leaving it in the best possible hands.  But I’m not going to give it away either.  How long do you think you’ll need to make a decision?”

“I’m not sure.  I need to talk to Ben and make an appointment to go over the paperwork with my lawyer.  But I’ve still got Immigration breathing down my neck, so…within two weeks is what I’d hope.  How does that sound?”

“That works for us.  Gary has copies of the paperwork with all the details downstairs for you.  Stay in touch and of course; call me if you have any questions.” 

We talked for a little longer.  I told her about some schedule changes I’d had to make and promised I’d email her a copy of a tender I’d written up for a prospective corporate client.  I also mentioned that we might need to hire one more person if that contract came through, even in the off season.  I noticed that she was looking tired and decided it was time to leave.

“I think that’s everything for now.  I should get going and let you get some rest.”

We said our goodbyes and I followed Gary to the front door.  He handed me a thick folder and gave me a kiss on the cheek as I left.  I sat in the car for a while before I could start the engine.  Now that I was alone and Bev’s offer began to sink in, my hands were shaking so badly I wasn’t sure I could drive.  There were no messages on my phone, so I pulled Robert’s business card from my wallet and called him.  He was waiting for a couple of people to call him back which left me no further ahead.  He said he’d let me know as soon as he’d found someone for me and we hung up.

I drove back toward the flat, my mind racing, jumping from Ben to work and back.  If Ben and I couldn’t find a way to get back to how things were before, the business was a moot point even if I could come up with the money on my own.  Without him, there was no reason for me to fight to stay here.  I needed to talk to Jeremy.

“Hey Jem, are you busy?”

“I’m filling out tax forms.  For the love of god, please tell me you’d like me to stop.”

I grinned, “I need your help; can we get together?”

“Sure.  Your place, or mine or do you want to go out?”

“No, not out.  Can you come over?”

“I can, but I actually do need to get this tax stuff done.  Why don’t I come over about 6?  I’ll bring dinner.”

He arrived a little early and came into the flat, passing me a bag containing an Indian take-away.  He opened two of the beers he’d brought.  I unpacked the food onto the table and we sat, loading our plates.

“How’s Alice?” I asked.

“She’s great,” He said with a happy smile, “I’m meeting her later tonight.  She really liked you.  She liked Ben too, but she found him a little intense.”

“I don’t blame her, he was, that night.” I mused, and took a bite of butter chicken.

Jeremy watched me as I chewed and he took a sip of beer.

“What’s going on?”

“We had a fight.”

“I figured.  What about?”

I told Jem what had happened after he’d called to tell me about Chloe and the baby and explained everything Ben had said.

“He actually called it bullshit?”

“Yeah, and he thinks I’m not being honest with myself and by extension, him.”

“I can see how that would be the wrong thing to say to you.  What did you say?”

“At first, I was so furious and upset that I couldn’t even think straight.  And then later when we were talking again and I’d calmed down, I started to think he might be right.”

“You think you’re scared?”

“Maybe.”

“Of what exactly?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.”

I stared at him.

“You want to fill me in, oh wise one?” I asked, sarcastically.

“Don’t be an asshole.” He said, chucking a packet of hot sauce at me, “What I’m saying is that if you’ve come to the conclusion that he’s right about you being afraid of something, if he was able to make you admit that, then it’s because on some level, you know it’s true and therefore, you must know what it is that you’re really afraid of.”

I held the hot sauce, squishing the packet back and forth in my fingers.

“Babies.”

“You’re afraid of babies?”

I threw the sauce back at him and he grinned.

“Jem, do you have any idea how many women I know who have had at least one pregnancy scare in their life, at least one ‘oh god I’m late’ moment?”

“No, but since you’re asking, I assume, quite a few?”

I nodded.

“So?”

“Not me.  Not even once.”

“O.K, but you were probably pretty careful, safe?”

“Not when I was young.  I had a reckless and stupid phase; most of my twenties actually.  Then I was with Daniel for years and even though we never actually tried, well, sometimes you get lazy about birth control when you’re in a relationship.  And when I met Ben, I wasn’t on anything and we weren’t as careful as we should have been either.”

“I am stunned that two such intelligent people could do something so fucking dumb.”

“I’m not even going to try to defend it.  But the point I was trying to make is that that, on top of my age makes me wonder if getting pregnant is even a possibility.”

He took a long drink from his beer bottle before he said anything.

“You’re telling me that you believe you’ve been unconsciously avoiding commitment because of the tiniest possibility that you might not be able to have a baby?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Well, that’s just stupid.”

“Thanks for that.”

“If you decided you didn’t want to have children that would be a problem for Ben.  If you want to get pregnant but you can’t, Ben won’t care.”

“Of course he will.” I said, getting up and taking our plates to the sink.

“No, he won’t.  I know how much he wants children, but he wants you more.”

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“I can Kai, because he’s as much as told me so.  The night the two of you came to tell me you were moving in together, you were visiting with someone at another table.  I had asked him what he had planned for your birthday and then I made a crack about you not getting any younger.  After he told me off for it, he started talking about your plans, the farm, chickens and babies.  I wish you could have heard the way he talked about you.  I think it’s safe to say that if he had to choose between you and fatherhood, he’d choose you. ”

“But…no, that’s not right.” 

I turned around and sank to the floor, my back to the door of the cupboard.

He came over and crouched next to me, taking my hand.

“Jem, I can’t ask him to make that choice.”

“You haven’t asked him for anything.  And you need to calm down; you don’t even know if it’s a decision he’ll have to make.  I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself here.  Forty isn’t old and you don’t know that you can’t get pregnant.  You need talk to Ben.”

 “I don’t know how, because if I can’t get pregnant, it changes everything.”

“Not for him it doesn’t.”

“It does for me.  How could I live with myself knowing that I’d taken that away from him?”

“You could be together for years and it still might not happen, then what would you do?  What if you see your doctor and find out you can’t get pregnant?  What would you do?”

“I’d let him go.” I said, closing my eyes as a wave of pain washed through me.

“You’re assuming he would go.  He wouldn’t.” Jem said, sitting down and putting his arm around me.

“What would be the point of making him stay?  So we could both be miserable?”

“I’m sorry Maple Leaf, but I don’t have an answer to that.  You have to talk to him about this, and soon.”

“I know.”

Jem offered to stay and get me drunk, but I knew he wanted to see Alice, so I sent him on his way with a hug at the door, thanking him again for being my best friend.  I washed the dishes and put the rest of the food away, my mind racing with one thought after another.  Ben had been right, I was scared.  I wasn’t sure which possibility was worse; that I hadn’t seen it myself or that I had and but wasn’t willing to admit it, to deal with it.  It shook me to consider how much that went against everything I thought I knew about myself.  My phone rang, and I took a breath before answering.

“Hi.”

“Hello you.  What are you up to?”

“I had dinner with Jem and he’s just left for Alice’s house.  What are you doing?”

“Going over my pages for tomorrow and thinking how strange it’s going to be to sleep alone.”

“The flat feels empty.  I miss you.”

He sighed, “Only 3 more days, right?”

“Yes and you’ll be busy working.  It’ll fly by.”

“If only.  We’re doing night shoots for the rest of the week and my call isn’t until 4 o’clock tomorrow.  What the hell am I going to do with myself all day?”

“Go to a museum?  Go for a run.  You’ll think of something.” I said, heading up the stairs to the bedroom.

He asked me what Bev and Gary had said and while we talked, I was packing an overnight bag.  As soon as we hung up, I locked the front door and got in the car, programming his hotel into the navigation system.  I left a little after 8 and the roads were fairly quiet once I got out of the city, so I made good time, pulling into the car park at 11:30.  I got my bag from the back and dialed his number as I walked into the lobby.  He answered on the third ring.

“What room are you in?”

“I’m in 310, why?”

“I’ll be up in a minute.”

He was standing in the doorway waiting for me, a huge smile on his face.  I threw my bag past him into the room, put my arms around him and kissed him for all I was worth. 

“I couldn’t even last a day.” I explained when we came up for air.

“I can’t believe you did this.”

“We have some things we need to talk about, so when you said you had a late call tomorrow, it just made sense.  I didn’t want to wait.”

“Should I open a bottle of wine?”

“You may as well.  I think we’re going to be up for a while.” I said and went into the bathroom to freshen up.

We sat cross-legged on the bed and he passed me a glass of wine.  He watched my face, waiting for me to begin.

“I’ve been thinking about everything you said, trying to figure out what happened.  I never meant to be untruthful to you or to myself, but I forgot how powerful fear can be.  I’m not scared of buying a house or of taking money from you or any of that.  I’m scared I won’t be able to give you what you want most and if I can’t, what that means for us.”

I told him what I’d told Jem, how I’d never once thought I might be pregnant, even when I hadn’t been being careful.

“I thought you’d said you’d never tried before, not even with Daniel.”

“We weren’t trying to do anything, but you get sloppy when you’re together for a while, so I missed a pill here and there and we didn’t use condoms when I did.  And that was nearly three years.”

“When David and Elise decided to have a baby, it took them almost two years to get pregnant the first time.”

“And Elise would have been much younger than I am now and it’s not going to get any easier, the older I get. Have you really, I mean seriously, considered the possibility that I might not be able to?”

“Yes, I have, of course I have.  From the moment I knew I loved you, I’ve thought about having children with you and I have considered what it could mean that you’re older than I.  But you have to know Kai, you’re the most important person in the world to me and I can’t imagine my life without you, not for any reason.”

“How could I force you to stay with me?  How could I ask you to choose?”

“You haven’t asked me to, it’s my choice.  Kai, all this pain you’re feeling, all this worry, it’s probably for nothing.  Why are you putting yourself through this when we haven’t even tried to get you pregnant?  If you’re so worried, let’s go see a doctor and find out, once and for all.”

“And then what?  What do we do if the answer is no?”

He took my wine from my hand and put both our glasses on the table, then took my hands in his and looked into my eyes.

“I’m not willing to give you up.  I will not let you walk away from me because you think I’m going to find something with someone else that you can’t provide.  You are everything to me, the foundation that I want to build the rest of my life on and if I have you, everything else is gilding the lily.  There are things that I want, but you are all that I need.”

“I don’t want you to look back and regret what might have been.  I don’t want to hurt you or be the cause of your unhappiness.”

“Then don’t talk about leaving me,” he said, cupping my cheek in his hand, “Don’t ever say that again.”

“I won’t.”

He leaned forward and kissed me, gentle and careful, like he was waiting for me to pull away.

“I’m not going anywhere.”  I said, reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

He covered my hand with his, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, completely.”

“What happened yesterday?  Why wouldn’t you let me touch you?”

“I was hurt.  You thought I’d lied to you.”

“I never said that Kai, I said I thought you were lying to yourself.  But I did get angry and the way I spoke to you was unkind.  For that I am sorry.”  

“Yesterday, I felt like you didn’t trust me anymore and trust is everything for us.  I wanted to be close to you, but I couldn’t get past the distance I felt.  And, I don’t know… maybe I couldn’t take part in the act that I felt I’d ultimately fail you with.  I didn’t know how to explain that to you, on top of everything else that had already been said.”

“And now?”

“Now, I think we both need this.”

“Just because I was angry with you doesn’t mean I ever stopped trusting you.  You don’t have to prove anything to me Kai.  If you aren’t ready, I’m not going to push you.  It takes time to build trust.”

“Not for us.   I trusted you from the day we met and I still do.  I want to let you back in,” I smiled, “literally and figuratively.”

“You’re so sexy when you’re grammatically correct.”

We burst out laughing and I was relieved that he could still be funny, still be silly with me even though I’d admitted to him the worst thing I could think of.  I went up on my knees and kissed him, holding his face in my hands and his lips opened to me.  I slid my tongue into his mouth and leaned into him, pushing him back onto the bed.  He untucked the back of my shirt and his hands moved underneath the cloth, softly caressing my skin as our kiss deepened and I stroked his neck with my fingers.  My hand trailed down his neck until I reached his buttons and I moved to the side so I could open his shirt and run my hand over his flat stomach.  His eyes opened and held mine and I realized he was letting me take the lead, making sure I felt safe and allowing me find my way back to him.

I watched his face while I circled his nipple with my finger, his eyes falling shut when I bent to suck the hard little nub into my mouth.  I rested my hand on his groin, letting him feel the heat through his trousers and his muscles tightened when my mouth slid wetly from one nipple to the other.  Resting my head on his chest, I opened his belt and button and slipped my hand inside.  I squeezed, stroked, making him harden in my hand and listened to his heartbeat getting faster.  I wriggled down the bed pulling his trousers down as I went.  Lying next to him and closing my eyes, I breathed in the scent of him, familiar, masculine and undeniably erotic to me.  I took him in my mouth, sucking, licking up and down his length and his hand reached for mine, our fingers twining together.  Every movement of my mouth was echoed in his breathing, soft sighs, then a groan and finally, my name.

“Kai, wait, not yet.”

My lips tight around his cock, I looked up at him and slowly let him slide him from me, “Tell me what you want.”

“The same thing I always want; you.”  He said and reached for me, bringing me up beside him.

He pulled my shirt over my head and buried his face in my neck, his hands on my breasts.  I unclasped the front of my bra and slipped out of it, arching my back and rubbing my nipples against his chest hair with a sigh.  Feathering kisses down my stomach, he moved between my legs and I raised my hips so he could pull my jeans off.  He covered me with his mouth and I inhaled sharply as he swept his tongue between my folds.  His fingers moved on my flesh, spreading me open so his lips could fasten around my clit, sucking softly until I couldn’t help myself and I ran my fingers into his hair, pulling him to me with a groan.  His tongue moved more quickly, stroking hard again and again over my rigid bud and I felt his finger slide across my entrance. 

“Ben, wait, not yet.” I pulled gently at his hair until he lifted his head, “I don’t want to come until you’re inside me.”

He smiled and taking his time, kissed his way up my body, licking and sucking everywhere until I was begging him for more.

“Please, please Ben.”

“Do you want to be on top?”

I knew he was making sure I didn’t need to be in control of this moment, that I trusted him, that we’d overcome this last barrier that I had thrown between us.

I smiled at him and shook my head.

“No, I need to put my arms around you and feel your body on mine.”

I could see the relief in his face as he smiled back at me and I knew then that we really would be alright; that whatever came next we would see it through, together.

He moved on top of me, taking me in his arms and we looked into each other’s eyes.  He shifted his weight and I tilted my hips, opening myself to him.  He pushed and began to ease inside me, drawing a long ‘ohh’ from deep in my chest.  He pulled back slowly then went deeper and I moved with him, wanting all of him, wanting him completely.  We quickly found our rhythm, our hips coming together, circling, grinding; our breathing fast and in unison.

“Oh god Kai, I’m not going to last much longer.  Come for me, I need to feel you come.”

I moaned and he moved faster; I met his thrusts, shaping my body to his.  I heard his deep, harsh groans as he let go inside me and I came hard, shouting as wave after wave of release rippled through me.

We kissed while our breathing slowly returned to normal.  He propped his chin on his elbow and grinning, looked at me.

“What?” I asked, smiling.

“I don’t think the neighbours are very happy with us.”

“Neighbours?”

He pointed at the wall behind the headboard, “Them.  Did you not hear them thump on the wall and tell us to shut up?”

“No,” I said, laughing, “I didn’t hear anything but you.”

“We may have to change rooms tomorrow.”

I made a face, “I have to go back to London first thing in the morning.”

“Oh.  Well, fuck.”

I giggled, “My sentiments exactly, but I have to work.  In fact, I need to get my phone and set the alarm.”

“For what time?”

I thought for a second, “Five I think.  There’ll be traffic in the morning.”

Without moving from where we lay, he reached over, dialed the front desk and requested a wake-up call.

 “There, done.  I’m not happy at all that you’re leaving, but at least I won’t have to change rooms.”

“If I were you, I’d do my best to avoid meeting the neighbours.  If they find out that it was you making all that noise, it’ll definitely make the papers.”  I grinned.

“Christ, that’s the last thing I need.  ‘Cumberbatch Sex Romp’ or some such nonsense.”

“Your mother would love that.”

“My mother I can handle, my PR team would flay me alive.”

“With me leaving in the morning, you should be safe for the rest of this week.  I make no guarantees for next week.”

“I’d love it if you could come up next week.  I’ll email you a copy of the shooting schedule tomorrow.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I yawned, “Can we go to sleep now?”

“Depends.  Do you love me?”

“More than air, Cumberbatch.”

“Oh, very good answer.”

And he kissed me goodnight.

 


	18. The Sun From Both Sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai, Ben, more talking, more sex - I suppose there are worse ways to pass the time.  
> Plans are made and they finally go Tom's premiere (And it's only taken me 8 chapters to get them there...)

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 18 – The Sun From Both Sides

 

 

I snatched the ringing phone off the cradle and held it to my ear; my 5 a.m. wake up call.  Stretching, I gently lifted Ben’s arm from my waist and rolled out of bed to make my way to the bathroom.  When I was ready to go, I dropped my bag by the front door and went back to say goodbye, crawling carefully onto the bed, lying down and putting my face close to Ben's.  

 I poked my tongue out and touched it to his lip.

“Stop it.” He said, without opening his eyes.  

“Good morning.”

“It would be if you were staying.”  He groused, throwing his arm around me and opening his eyes, “Can’t you go back this afternoon?  Or tomorrow?”

“I already missed yesterday; I have to go in today.  I’m a very busy and important woman you know.”

He grinned, “I suppose it doesn’t look good for the new boss to be taking extra days off.”

“No, I have to try and set a good example now.”

“By all means.  Save the bad behaviour for when you’re at home with me.”

“Did you have something specific in mind?  I’m open to requests.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “Are you?  So many possibilities; I’m going to have to think…”

“You do that; let me know what you decide.    And now I really do have to go.”

“Five more minutes.”  He tightened his grip, pulling me closer.

“Five more minutes will only lead to ten.  And ten will lead to half an hour and then I really will be late.”

“Half an hour?  Woman, you insult me.”

I grinned, “It was you I was concerned about.  You could probably make me come twice in half an hour but I wouldn’t have time to reciprocate.”

“I’ll bet I could give you two in half that time.”

“Ooh, so cocky.  As tempting as it is to let you try, I really can’t.  Kiss me and then you can go back to sleep.”

I tucked him back into bed and hit the road, making a mental checklist of everything I had to get done today as I drove back toward London.  I went straight to the office and listened to all the phone messages while I made a pot of coffee, then I sat down and started my day.  I’d been out of the office for three days so it took me until the early afternoon to get caught up with just the phone calls and scheduling.  I took a quick break to run out and pick up some lunch then headed back to check my personal voicemail while I ate.

Ben’s business manager had left me a long message with the names and contact information for an accountant and a lawyer to go over the proposals from Bev and Gary.  I called the law office immediately, but wasn’t able to get an appointment until the following week.  It wasn’t ideal in terms of my time restrictions, but at least it would give me and Ben a chance to consider which proposal was the best choice for us.  I’d laid out the basics on the phone for him yesterday, but we’d had more urgent things to talk about when I’d gone up to see him the night before.  Next, I called my Immigration attorney and made an appointment to see him the day following the business lawyer.

I emptied an envelope full of bills from one of our suppliers onto my desk and worked through them, checking them against the paperwork from the staff and finally, writing a cheque.  It was only a little after 4, but I’d been up early so I locked the office and went home.

At the flat, I checked the mailbox and found it crammed full.  There were stacks of stuff for Ben and an envelope for me; a letter from my Mum.  It was such a rare treat to get an actual handwritten letter that I made myself wait until I’d emptied my overnight bag and made a cup of tea before I sat down and tore the envelope open. There were four pages of news in her neat script.  She updated me on my Dad’s most recent project.  Since he’d retired, he spent most of his time in his shop, building furniture.  What had started as a hobby had accidentally become a small business when he’d sold a few pieces at a craft fair and he now had orders coming in faster than he could handle.  That was typical for my Dad; whatever he turned his hand to was inevitably a success, and throughout my childhood he was forever making and selling things on the side.  At various times, he’d sold custom motorcycles, homemade jam, lampshades, birdhouses and now, furniture.  I was pleased that he’d found something to keep him busy, especially with my Mum in the navy, so often travelling.  My brother was still writing for the newspaper in his small city and had been nominated for a national award which my parents were thrilled about.  She went on to tell me about family friends and some school mates of mine that she’d seen.  She had opinions on everything from what they were wearing when she saw them, to their questionable choices in men.  And as funny as she was, it made me glad once again that I’d escaped the small town I’d grown up in and the attitude inherent there that your business was everyone’s business.  I smiled to myself as I realized the irony of that, given the attention that Ben drew whenever we were out in public.  ‘Out of the frying pan and into the fire’ I thought.

I was already in bed when Ben called that night.  He was on location, but waiting for a shot to be set up.  

“I sent you the shooting schedule for next week, as promised.  Do you still think you might be able to come up?”

“It depends.  I’m seeing both lawyers; one on Tuesday and the other on Wednesday so that’s going to take me out of the office already.  I’ll have to see how busy the rest of the week is.”

He sighed, “I understand.  It would be very helpful if you could come on Friday at least.”

“Why?”

“I have something special planned for your birthday and I’d like to get a head start if we can, as soon as I’m done filming for the day.”

“Where are we going?” 

“I’m not telling you anything.  You’ll have to wait and see.”

“How will I know what to pack?”

“I’ll tell you next week.  For now, just plan on bringing your birthday suit.”

“You are so juvenile.” I laughed.

“You won’t be saying that when you see what I have planned for you.  Teenage boys don’t have my imagination.”

“I don’t normally like surprises, but I’m looking forward to it now.”

“So am I.  You have no idea…”

I laughed again, “I’m going to change the subject otherwise you’re going to get overexcited, tell me everything and ruin the surprise.”

“You’re probably right.” He sighed.

“Can we talk about Christmas for a minute?  How many days do you have off from the play?”

“We take a break from the 24th through the 26th.  I thought we’d head up to Mum and Dad’s on Christmas Eve and come back on either Boxing Day or the morning of the 27th.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided what you want to do.  What if I had other plans?” I asked, amused.

He was quiet for a moment.

“I’m an idiot.”

“Forgot you were making decisions for two, did you?”

“I’m so sorry, I just wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re forgiven.

“It won’t happen again.”

“I’m sure it will.  Or next time, it’ll be me that does it.  Relax Ben, I was only teasing you.  But listen, how would you feel if I invited my parents to come here for the holidays?  We could ask your Mum and Dad to come as well and do the whole thing here, at our place.”

“That’s a brilliant idea!  I was wondering when I’d finally get a chance to meet your family and they can meet mine at the same time.  I’ve never done a big Christmas at my house though, so we’ll have to get all kinds of decorations and lights and we’ll get an enormous tree.  It could go in the corner next to the staircase and…”

“Ben!” I grinned, “Take a breath.”

When he got enthusiastic, he spoke so quickly I could barely keep up. 

“We can do all of that whether my parents can come or not.  I’ll even make you a gingerbread house.”

“What’s the time difference, eight hours?  Call them now and ask.”

“And they can stay here, with us?”

“Absolutely and for as long as you like.  We still have a few months to get someone in to soundproof our bedroom.”

“Silly man, I love you.”

“And I love you, my beautiful girl.  I should run.  Call your parents tonight, O.K?”

“As soon as we hang up.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I scrolled through my phone and called my parent’s number.  They were out, so I left a cheerful message telling them I’d call back the following evening.  I read a while longer then turned off the light to get an early night.  There had been a scheduling snafu with one of the bookings for the next day and we were short staffed so I was covering it myself. 

I was heading straight from work to pick up Jeremy and we were going to have dinner with Chloe and Liam and see the baby, so I packed a change of clothes, ate breakfast and even though the sun was shining, I took the car instead of my bike.  I’d gotten quite used to the convenience of having the option, but once Ben was home and going to daily rehearsals, I’d be back to taking the Tube or riding the bus on rainy days.  I wasn’t looking forward to it, with bad weather more likely to be the norm now that we were heading into the autumn.

The job I was covering was a small office building.  All that had to be done was to cut the grass and tidy the planters and it they had all their own equipment on site.  It only took me a couple of hours, but I enjoyed it; being back outside, working with my hands.  I found myself thinking about having my own garden again and that led to thinking about a house.  Ben and I both loved the neighbourhood around the flat so I had begun to wonder if we should look for a house in the area.  With buying the business, maybe it was too soon to be considering the farming idea, but a larger house in the city would give me a yard to work in and if we were planning for children, we could use a better set up than the one we had now – a second bedroom that wasn’t even on the same floor as ours.  It was yet another thing to add to our ever growing list of possibilities.  I desperately wanted to start crossing things off that list, to feel as though we were making some kind of progress.

I spent the afternoon in the office then went over to pick up Jem.  He opened the door to my knock, greeting me with a warm hug.

“Come on in.  Do you want a drink before we go?”

“No, better not, I’d like to have a glass of wine later with dinner.”

“Tea then?”

“Why not?  Where’s Alice?” I asked, following him to the kitchen.

“She’s working tonight.” He answered, filling the kettle.

“You scheduled your girlfriend to work when you’re going to see your friend’s new baby?”

“She didn’t mind, she admits to being not terribly maternal.  And some of us aren’t joined at the hip to our significant others.”

“We like spending as much time together as possible.  You would too if you knew that time was limited.”

“Oh for god’s sake, get over yourself; he flies around the world making movies.” Jem said, “He’s not dying.”

I snorted with laughter, “Fair enough.  I’m going to go clean up.”

I went to the loo to change my clothes.  When I got back to the kitchen, Jem was pouring the tea.

“So, you and Ben talked?  And you’re O.K?”

“Yeah, we did.  I drove up to see him after you left the other night.  We talked it through and we’re good.  Thanks again Jemmy, for coming over and helping me get my head straight.” I put my hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Anytime Maple Leaf, what are friends for?”

“I don’t want to be rude, but do you mind if I make a quick call?  I couldn’t reach my Mum and Dad last night.”

“No problem, go ahead.”

I sat down, dialed my parent’s number and while I waited for someone to answer, Jem added a splash of milk to my cup and passed it to me.  My Mum’s voice, slightly out of breath, answered on the fifth ring.

“Were you running?” I asked.

“Kai!  I’m so happy you called back.  Your Dad and I just got back from a walk and I heard the phone ringing as we were coming up the driveway, so I ran for it.”

I told her I’d gotten her letter and we chatted briefly but I was mindful of not being on the phone too long while Jem was waiting for me.

“So Mum, have you given any thought to Christmas this year?”

“It’s only September Kai, of course not.”

“I know it’s early, but I want to throw an idea out there.  How would you and Dad like to come here?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jem’s head swivel to look at me.

“Does this mean your visa got approved?” Mum asked excitedly.

“Not yet, but I should know in a few weeks.  We’re still making plans though, trying to think positively.  Ben really wants to meet you and if you come in December, you’ll be able to see his play and he’ll also have a bit of time off before his next project.  And you can meet his parents too.”

“I think that’s a great idea.  Let me talk to Dad and I’ll either call you back or send you an email and let you know.”

We said goodbye and I hung up, turning to look at Jem.

“What?” I asked, since he was still staring at me.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” I grinned, “your head spun around so fast I’m surprised you didn’t tip over.”

He came over and sat with me at the table.

“You know how happy I am for you, don’t you?  That you and Ben found each other and that you’ve managed to weather a few storms together and clearly, it’s going well.  But since Ben’s been home and you moved out, I really haven’t seen much of you.  I guess hearing that you’re planning a big family Christmas, with him, and all your parents…it just sort of hit home, how much things have changed.” He shrugged, looking bashful, “You’re my best friend and I miss you.”

“Jem, I miss you too.  When we met for dinner, Ben was all weird and protective and when I called you the other night, it was to talk me down off the ledge about a Ben thing.” I sighed, trying to explain myself, “Since he got back, I’ve been putting all my focus on him. I know I haven’t been much of a friend lately and I apologize for that.  But Jem,” I admonished, “If we’re having a family Christmas, obviously you’re invited.  You’re my British brother from another mother, I can’t picture my first Christmas here without you.”

He grinned and lightly punched me on the arm, looking very, very pleased.

“I really don’t mind sharing you with him, as long as I actually get to share you.  I just want to see a bit more of you, that’s all.  And I do understand; you’re still in the honeymoon phase.”

“I guess that’s the one benefit of having him away so often, every time he comes back it’s a honeymoon phase.  But don’t tell him I said that.  The last time I tried to joke his being away so much might be good for us, he got absolutely livid.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Why don’t we get together next week?” I suggested, “We could have dinner and maybe work on some new songs.”

“Can you do Monday?  Alice would be off, so she could come too and I’ll cook.”

“Monday’s good for me.  I’ll call you from the office when I know what time I can get here, O.K?”

We put our cups in the sink and left for Chloe and Liam’s.  As Chloe opened the door, we were greeted by a fragrant waft of roast beef and my stomach growled loudly enough that Jem and Chloe burst out laughing.

“Shut up, I skipped lunch because I knew Liam was cooking.”

Liam was legendary within our group of friends for not only being a talented cook, but also for the size of the meals he served.  Chloe hung our jackets and we went to the kitchen, where Liam was standing at the stove, stirring a pot with one hand and holding the baby in his other arm.

“Pass her over mate,” said Jem, scooping the baby out of her father’s arm and settling her against him, “and hello, you gorgeous girl you.”

He sat at the table and I went to look over his shoulder.

“Oh my god, I thought Jem was kidding when he said she looked just like Liam.” I started to laugh.

“No, he was right.  There’s not a thing of me in her.” said Chloe, pouring us each a glass of wine.

“That’s very ungrateful of her.” I said.

Chloe smiled, “I don’t mind.  I think Liam’s pretty good looking and maybe the second one will look like me.”

“You’ve only had this one five minutes and you’re already planning another one?”

“Two.  We always said we wanted three.” Said Liam, standing with his arm around his wife.

“Does she have a name yet?”

“Yes, Charlotte after Chloe’s grandmother and Gemma, because it’s the closest we could get to Jeremy.”  Liam reached over and gave Jem’s shoulder a squeeze, “Sorry my friend, but it’s grown up time.  Chloe’s sister will be her godmother and we’d like you to be her godfather.” 

Jem’s mouth fell open and he stared at his friends.  I could see how touched and proud he was and he swallowed hard a couple of times.

“Wow,’ he whispered, “that’s just…wow.”

He sat for a minute looking at Charlotte and then he got up and walked into the other room.  We could hear him quietly talking to the baby and the three of us grinned at each other.

“You couldn’t have made a better choice.  What do you think he’s telling her?” I asked.

“He’s telling her that he’ll love and protect her and spoil her rotten and he’s probably crying his head off.  That’s why we chose him.” said Liam.

We sat talking around the kitchen table until a slightly red-eyed Jem rejoined us.

“She’s fallen asleep.”

 “I didn’t even get a chance to hold her,” I said, “before Uncle Baby-Whisperer worked his magic.”

“Next time.” promised Chloe, “We’re already learning to make the most of nap-time.”

“Come with me, we can put her down together and then we’ll eat.” Liam said to Jem.

They headed upstairs and I said to Chloe, “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Of course.”

“Just between us Chloe, you can’t tell anyone I’ve asked you.”

She frowned, “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.  What’s up?”

“How long did it take you to get pregnant?” I asked, fidgeting with my wine glass.

She smiled, “I went off the pill and got pregnant the next month.”

“Oh Christ, really?”

 “Yeah, but that’s not really considered normal.  Are you thinking about it?” 

“We’ve just opened negotiations and I’m freaking out a little bit.”

“Well, that is normal.  There’s a lot to consider.”

“I know, believe me.  I’m working again and probably buying a business, Ben’s away all the time…I’m forty.”

“The worst thing you can do is stress yourself out about it; you have to be as calm and relaxed about it as you can manage.”  She glanced up as we heard footsteps on the stairs, “Call me any time if you have questions or you just need to talk.  And I’ll be happy to give you the name of my doctor if you like.”

Chloe deftly changed the subject, asking me about buying ‘Down to Earth’.  I filled them in as we ate.  Afterward, Jem and I did the washing up to say thank you then all we moved to the sitting room.  The four of us talked for a while, but before long, Chloe started trying to stifle yawns, so we made our excuses and I dropped Jem at his place. 

That night when Ben called, I told him I’d spoken to my Mum about Christmas and he said he’d let his parents know as soon as mine confirmed.  He asked about the baby and he sympathized when I told him Jem had cried about being made godfather.

“It’s such a huge honour, knowing your friends love and trust you that way.” Ben said.

“He felt it, that’s for sure.  Other than me, Chloe and Liam are the closest thing Jem has to family.  I don’t know if he’s said, but he had a pretty awful childhood and he’s not in contact with his parents anymore.”

“He’s told me that his mother was a drinker.”

“Exactly; he used to spend a lot of time at Liam’s house, just to escape. It’s a miracle he turned out as well as he did, but I think because of his background, even though he has the restaurant and he owns his house, Jem’s kind of got a Peter Pan streak.  It’s like he’s not ready to grow up until he’s had the childhood he really deserved.   I’ll be interested to see if this changes him at all.”

“Good question.  I can imagine he’ll be the favourite uncle, the one who does the fun things like taking her to the zoo and letting her have as much sugar as she likes but I think he’ll also take it quite seriously and be enormously protective of her.”

“I’m glad to hear you can still say nice things about him, even if you are jealous.”

“Kai, he’s still my friend.  If he offers to take you to the zoo though, I will not be happy.”

We laughed together and then I brought up something that had been on my mind for a while.

“Ben? Can I ask you about the premiere?”

“What about it?”

“I have no idea what’s happening except that I have to be ready by five.  Tell me what to expect.”

“When we arrive, I’ll do some photos and autographs with the fans that are there.  Normally, Louise would be with me for that, to help keep me moving but she’s going to stick with you on Friday and one of her assistants will go with me.  Lou will take you over to where the red carpet starts and you’ll wait there for me.  Once I join you, we’ll walk the line.  That’s where it’s going to get a bit mad.  You’re going to hear lots of yelling, photographers telling you where they want you to look.  From that point on, just do your best to keep smiling and not pull a lemur.”

“Oh thanks,” I giggled, “that’s very helpful.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you the whole time and it goes by very quickly.  Once that part’s finished, there are interviews.  It’s not my film, I’m there to support Tom so I don’t have to do too much of that but again, you’ll go with Louise until I’m done.  Then we go inside, watch the film, I do a few more interviews and finally, it’s party time.  Are you nervous?”

“I am a bit, but that’s normal, right?”

“Of course it is but Louise is a pro; she’s been doing this forever and she’s on strict instructions to take the best care of you when I can’t be there.  I’ll keep the interviews short, alright?”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“I’ll try to keep them short then.  I want you to have fun.  The first time is the hardest; it’ll be easier next time.”

“Just let me get through this one without any major fuck ups, like tucking my dress into my underpants, before we talk about the next one.”

He laughed, “That won’t happen.  I can’t wait to see how you’re going to look.  Tell me about your dress.”

“No, I want it to be a surprise.”

“Come on, tell me something.  All I know is, it’s black.  Are you going to have your boobs out?”

“Of course, boobs on full display and embarrassingly short skirt.  That sounds like me.”

“I think some sarcasm just dripped into my ear.”

“Say goodnight and go clean that up.”

“Goodnight my love, I’ll see you on Friday.”

I spent Thursday in the office, doing paperwork and called Bev in the afternoon to give her an update.  I made sure she knew I’d be in touch the following week after I’d been to see the lawyer and then I called Charlie to confirm our plans.  He’d picked up my dress after the alterations were done and he and his friend Lisa would arrive at the flat at two o’clock on Friday.

“Two o’clock?  Are you crazy?  The car isn’t coming until five.”

“Hair, make up, getting dressed and you don’t want to feel hurried.  If you feel rushed at home you’ll feel rushed all night.  Make sure you eat something before we get there and then you’ll drink a little bubbly and we’ll make you gorgeous.  I have the dress and you have the shoes and underthings.  What about jewelry?”

“Simple, since I don’t really have any.  I’ll polish my star fish ring and my bracelet and I have a pair of silver earrings that I’ll shine up as well.  That’s it.”

“Unbelievable.  Bag?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you have an evening bag?”

“Uh…no.”

“You’re hopeless, you know that?  I’ll borrow one for you.  If you think of anything else, call me back, otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With Ben away, there was no reason to rush home after work, so I called Leah.  She met me for dinner at a pub and we spent a fun couple of hours talking about nothing serious, which was lovely and relaxing.  She asked me to call her with all the details about the premiere and tried to make me promise to take my phone and see if I could get her video of Tom on the dance floor.  I promised that would absolutely not be happening.  I walked home from the pub and sat on the sofa polishing my jewelry while I watched TV.

At half past seven the next morning, I was making breakfast when I heard a key turn in the door. 

“I didn’t expect to see you until later.” I said, greeting Ben with a hug.

“I thought I’d sleep better in my own bed than at the hotel, so I left as soon as I finished my last scene.”

“It was the middle of the night!”

“My driver was happy enough to get home early too.  And I was able to sleep part of the way.”

“Are you hungry?  I’m scrambling some eggs.”

He was, so we ate breakfast together.  When we were finished, he stretched and yawned.

“Come back to bed with me.”

“You have to go to sleep, we’re going to be up late tonight,” I said, “and I have to go to work.  I need to be back to meet Charlie by two.”

He scowled, “Have I said how much happier I was when you weren’t working?”

“You have.  Sorry my love, but this is our new reality.  I’m going to get dressed, would you like to come and watch?” I teased.

“Yes please.”

We went upstairs and Ben stretched out on the bed while I got ready for work and we talked while I got dressed.  The project he was working on had been written by an old friend of his and it wasn’t a big production.  The set was very relaxed and he was having a good time on location but more than anything he was really proud of his performance so far.     

“I don’t know if it’s that the script is so fucking good or if I’m being inspired by the feeling on set or what, but I think this is the best work I’ve done in a long time.”

I sat down on the bed, “I think that’s great and I’m happy for you.  This is the kind of thing you were talking about when you said you wanted to start funding projects that might not get made otherwise, isn’t it?”

“You remember that?”

“It was the best day of my life.  I remember every second of it.”

I kissed him and got up to finish getting ready.  He was more tired than he’d let on and he was asleep before I’d even finished braiding my hair.  I drew the curtains to darken the room and closed the bedroom door behind me. 

The sun was shining, so I rode my Ducati and once at the office, I buckled down and tore through my day, trying to get everything in order before I closed up for the weekend.  I was starting to feel like the phone was permanently attached to my head.  It made me long for the days when I worked outside, worked with my body instead of sitting on my ass.  I was either going to have to hire someone to take over part of the office work so I could get back outside, or I was going to have to start going the gym.  I shuddered at the thought.

The phone just wouldn’t stop ringing.  Even as I was locking the door behind me it started again and I swore and ran back inside.  One of our vans had broken down and by the time I’d called for a tow truck and spoken to the mechanic, I was in danger of being late.  Glad that I’d ridden my bike instead of taking the Jag, I darted through the Friday afternoon traffic, knowing I was going too fast but grinning inside my helmet as I cut around car after car.   Then I heard the siren and glanced at my mirror, swearing as I realized I’d been busted.  I pulled over and took my helmet off, reaching for my wallet as the cop walked toward me with his ticket pad in hand.

“Good afternoon Miss, do you know why I pulled you over?”

“I was speeding.”

He glanced up from his book, “Yes, you were.  Care to explain yourself?”

“I’m running late and it’s my own fault, sorry.”  There was no point in trying to make something up, better to take my lumps and hope he’d be quick about it.

“Driving license?” He said, holding his hand out.

I passed it over and waited as he read it.

“Any previous traffic violations?”

“No Constable, none.” I said, thinking ‘Not in the UK at least…’

“Wait here a minute.”

He walked back to his car to run my information through the system.  When he came back, he asked me another question.

“What are you late for?”

I grinned, “If I have a good excuse will you let me off with a warning?”

“Try me.”

“I’m going to a film premiere tonight and I’m late for my hair and make-up.”

He glanced back at my license and asked, “Should I know your name?”

“No, I’m not famous, I’m the plus one.”

“I see.  Your date is somebody then?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

I considered for a second whether it was worth it.

“Does it matter?  I’d rather not say if it’s all the same to you.”

“Even if it means no ticket?” 

“Yup.”

He squinted at me for a moment and I grinned at him and shrugged.

“Consider this a warning Miss Macbeth.  Slow down and be more careful in future.”  He passed my license back to me.

“Seriously?  I can go?”

“Yes, but I mean it, no more speeding.  Enjoy your evening.”

He walked away and I yelled, “Thank you!” as he was getting into his car.

He pulled back into traffic and I exhaled and yanked my helmet back on, watching as he turned at the intersection.  I really did try to slow down but now I was running seriously late.  When I got home, Charlie and Lisa were waiting out front.

“Sorry, sorry!  I got pulled over.  Did you ring the buzzer?” I said, running up the steps.

“We rang, but obviously you weren’t here.”

“No but Ben’s home.  He must still be sleeping.”

I unlocked the door and they followed me upstairs, Charlie carrying my dress and Lisa and I lugging her two large cases of supplies.  It was quiet in the flat.

“Charlie,” I asked, “there’s coffee in the cupboard beside the sink, can you start a pot?  I’ll go wake Ben.”

The curtains were still drawn and Ben had the blankets pulled completely over his head.  I sat next to him and gently rubbed his back.

“Ben?  It’s time to get up.”

He rolled over and scrubbed his face with his hands.

“Already?”

“Yes.  Actually, we’re a bit behind.  I was late getting home.”

“O.K.  I’ll go brush my teeth and have a shower.”

“No, sorry.  You can brush your teeth, but I need to wash my hair.  You’ll have to wait I’m afraid.  Charlie’s making coffee, so up you get.”

He followed me to the loo to clean his teeth and I went straight into the shower.  Afterward, I dressed in an old t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants then went downstairs to let them know I was ready to get started.

“We can start your hair down here, and Ben, you can shower now.  Then you can bring your suit and whatever else you need downstairs because you’re banished from the bedroom until she’s ready.”  Charlie instructed.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh yes I am.  Get a move on.”

Muttering to himself, Ben left us and Charlie and Lisa and I discussed what we were going to do.  They understood that I didn’t want anything too fussy; I still wanted to feel like myself.  We all agreed that my hair should be up, because the back of my dress was unusual and really should be seen.  And as far as make-up was concerned, I knew I needed some colour because the dress was black, but I insisted on not looking like a drag queen.  

“Simple eye make-up then and red lips?” asked Lisa.

“Perfect, I’d be comfortable with that.”

“You’ll have to remember to check your teeth though, before you smile,” Charlie pointed out, “you don’t want to have lipstick on your teeth in the pictures.”

“Charlie, I have worn lipstick before.  Even I know to do that.”

“Alright, don’t bite my head off.  Let’s start by drying your hair.  Lots of curls Lisa.”

By the time Ben came back down with his suit and shirt over his arm my hair was nearly dry and we carried everything upstairs to the bathroom.  I sat while Lisa started to apply what felt to me like layers and layers of product, but I kept my mouth shut, knowing I was in good hands and that Charlie wouldn’t let me walk out the door looking anything but perfect.  Part way through the process, he ran downstairs and got a bottle of champagne from the fridge and we had a couple of glasses while they jammed about a thousand pins into my scalp, insisting it would look natural.  Finally, I was allowed to go into the walk in closet and put on my new underwear then Charlie joined me to help get me into the dress without wrecking all their hard work.  He applied a couple of small pieces of tape to help keep my bra in place then I stepped into the dress.  Charlie adjusted and fussed, did up the hook at the back of my neck and pulled the zipper up.  I sat down to put on my shoes.  When I stood, the hem fell exactly where it was supposed to and I turned to look at myself in the full length mirror.

“Holy shit Charlie.”

“Good, isn’t it?”

“I can’t believe it.” I took a breath.

“Don’t you dare start crying, I shall be very cross if you mess up your mascara.”

Lisa was standing in the doorway, smiling broadly, “I’m quite pleased with this.  You look fantastic.”

“Thank you both so much, you have no idea how much this means to me.”

I couldn’t stop looking in the mirror.  It still looked like me, but polished, and elegant.  I turned to look at the back of the dress then grinned at Charlie again.

“Good one Charlie.”

“I rather agree.  Let’s get your bag organized and then we’ll let Ben have a look.”

Charlie had borrowed an evening purse from a friend.  It was a small black velvet clutch with silver accents, which picked up my silver jewelry.  I returned to the bathroom to put my earrings in and then Charlie took my arm to help me down the stairs in my heels, pointing out that this would be the second worst place for me to trip over my dress.  I was nearly at the bottom of the staircase when Ben came down the hall from his office, immaculately suited in black with a crisp white shirt and dark silver tie.

I stopped and watched his face as he looked me up and down, his eyes sparkling.

“Jesus Christ but you’re gorgeous.”

“So are you.  Seriously, you are wearing the hell out of that suit.”  I smiled, “It’s been a while since our clothes matched.”

He held his hand out to me and I went down the last couple of stairs.  Taking my hand, he turned me to see the back of the dress.  He ran his fingers over the draped fringes and I felt a tingle as his fingers brushed my skin.

“Oh, I like this very much.”

“I’m so glad.  Now I can relax.”

He frowned, “I don’t think much of those earrings though.”

He slipped his hand into his pocket and came up with a little box, which he popped open and held in his palm.

“Why don’t you try these instead?”

On a bed of black were two delicate, diamond encrusted starfish.

“Oh Ben…”

“Don’t make her cry for Christ’s sake; she’s emotional enough already.” Charlie said, coming down the stairs from behind me.

I stared at Ben with a huge lovesick smile on my face while Charlie took the box and switched my earrings.

“Well, now you really are perfect.  We’ll go upstairs and pack up our things.  You two have a glass of champagne and relax for a bit before your car arrives.”

When they’d gone back upstairs, Ben said, “That dress fits you like a glove.  Can you sit?”

“Yes,” I said, pinching the fabric and giving it a pull, “stretchy, see?”

“Smart.  Come have a drink.”

He poured two glasses and sat at the table, pulling me onto his lap.  His hand snaked inside the back of my dress again and I gently fixed the front of his hair.

“I wasn’t happy they were cutting your hair short for the film.  I thought it was going to make you look older, but I was wrong.  I have to admit, I like it.” 

He took my hand and gently pressed his lips to my palm.

“Kai, I want you to know, I’m grateful every day for whatever twist of fate brought you to me.”

“Finding you is almost enough to make me believe in fate or luck or whatever it was.”

“I’m so excited that you’re coming with me tonight, I can’t wait to show you off.  I’m proud of you, proud to be with you.”

“You really are the loveliest man.”

“If I’m very, very careful, can I kiss you?” He asked, his eyes twinkling.

“Yes.”

“NO!” shouted Charlie, coming into the room with one of Lisa’s cases in his hand, “Don’t mess her up before you even leave the house.  I’m going to have a drink and keep an eye on the two of you.”

While he was seeing Lisa out the door, I ignored his instructions and kissed Ben lightly on the lips.  I was rubbing lipstick off his mouth with my fingertip when Charlie came in and poured himself a glass of bubbly.

“Clearly I can’t turn my back for a second.  Honestly, do I have to come in the car with you?  In fact, I’m free tonight.  I could borrow a suit from Ben and come along, just to keep an eye…”

“Not a chance,” I interrupted, laughing, “We’ll behave.”

When our car arrived, I made one last run to the loo – I’d had a couple of glasses of champagne and had no idea when I’d next see a bathroom - then let Charlie touch up my lips and do a final check of my hair.

He walked us to the car and I thanked him one last time while the driver held the door open for us, then we were on our way.

“Hey Ben?”

“Yes?”

“When I said before that I wasn’t that nervous?”

“Yes.”

“I am now.”

“Look at me.” He said, taking my hand in his, “There’s nothing for you to be worried about.  You’re there to be with me, because I love you, you make me happy and I want you by my side.  Forget about everything else, none of it is important.  We’ll watch Tom’s film, you’ll meet some of my friends; we’ll have some drinks and dance.  It’s just a party Kai, that’s all.  Besides, you don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks, remember?”

I chuckled and squeezed his hand, “Thank you.  I remember now.”

“Good.  Sit back and relax.” 

He put his arm around me and as I leaned into him he bent to whisper into my ear, “And after the party, I’m going to take you home, tear that dress off you and do whatever I have to do to make you scream my name.”

Even as I giggled, I felt my nipples tighten at the sound of his voice.

“Great.  Now that’s all I’m going to be able to think about.”

“I’m counting on it.  You know how I love it when you blush.”

“This is going to be a long fucking night.” I sighed.

I rested my head on his shoulder as we rode quietly across the city, trying to absorb some of his tranquility.  He really did seem completely relaxed, his arm around me, hand slowly stroking my shoulder.  Only when we pulled into the line of cars did he sit up, rubbing his hands together and taking slow, deep breaths and I could see he was more nervous than he had wanted me to know.  I didn’t want him to be concerned about me, he had a job to do and he needed to focus on that.

“Ben, look at me.”

He turned to face me as the car pulled forward.

“I’m fine.  I’m with you and that means I can do anything.”

“That means the world to me.”

“Besides, the champagne’s kicking in and I’m starting to feel bulletproof.”

He started to laugh as the car door opened and Louise crouched down and smiled.

“Kai, you look wonderful.  Any questions before we go?  No?  Alright, stay close to me.”

She stepped back and Ben got out of the car, turned, and offered me his hand.  As I stood up, I immediately became aware of the noise.  The sheer volume of human voices was unbelievable.  Looking around, I could see throngs of people behind metal barricades, waving signs, taking pictures, leaning from side to side to see who was arriving, who was getting out of the cars.

“Good god it’s loud!”

“That’s where I’m headed,” Ben said, nodding at the crowd, “Go with Lou and I’ll see you soon.”

I smiled encouragingly and as I turned to follow Louise, Ben pulled me back and kissed my cheek then let go of my hand and walked toward the barricades with Louise’s assistant on his heels.  As I followed Lou, I heard a roar as the people recognized Ben approaching and I grinned.

Louise brought me to a long makeshift corridor, canvas stretched on metal frames forming high walls to shield the people behind them from the crowds.  We slowly made our way forward to a sort of holding area, full of people in evening dress queuing like cattle and being directed from one spot to another by teams of minders all wearing headsets and carrying clipboards.  Far ahead, I could see camera flashes as people moved down the red carpet and I looked at Louise and shook my head in wonder.

“It’s pretty overwhelming the first few times, but don’t worry, it gets easier.  Can I get you anything, a bottle of water maybe?”

I wasn’t thirsty now, but didn’t know how long I’d be waiting for Ben, so I said yes to the water.  At least repeatedly opening and closing the cap gave me something to do with my hands.  I scanned the crowd and recognized a few faces.  That’s when it started to feel surreal.  I was waiting to walk the red carpet at a movie premiere in London, with my famous boyfriend and was surrounded by faces I’d been seeing for years in movies and on television.

“This is nuts.” I muttered and Louise looked at me, “I’m fine,” I assured her, “It’s just so bizarre.”

“I’ve done this so many times now, with Ben and clients before him that I can barely remember my first one, but bizarre would probably have been the word I’d have chosen.  And no one was going to be taking my picture, but I’m going to give you a little advice for the next part, if you don’t mind?”

“Please, advise away.”

“When you walk out there, it’s going to be like a wall of sound, the photographers will all be shouting, trying to get your attention.  Try not to rush, don’t swivel your head from one to the other.  In fact, ignore them as much as possible.  Choose one at a time and look there for five seconds, then move on.  If you can, try to look where Ben is looking, so there are shots of you both facing the same way, that’s what they all want anyway.  It’s hard to be natural when you’re smiling for that long but just do your best.  Most importantly, don’t forget to breathe and try to have fun with it.  It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Thank you Louise, for babysitting me tonight.  I feel like I can relax with you looking after me.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Her answer was nearly drowned out by a wave of screaming from the crowds outside.

“We should be seeing Ben any time; I think that’s probably Tom arriving.” Louise said.

In fact, it was nearly another twenty minutes before I saw him making his way toward us.

“Sorry I was so long,” he said, reaching for my hand, “Tom and I did a few pictures together.”

The colour was high in his cheeks and he was slightly out of breath, clear signs that he was in a wonderful mood and feeling the energy from the people he’d met outside.  Now that he was here, Louise moved forward and spoke to one of the people wearing a headset and we were quickly ushered closer to the front of the line.  Remembering Charlie’s advice, I let go of Ben’s hand and opened my bag, reaching for my lipstick and mirror.  I did a quick touch up and checked my teeth then closed my bag and took Ben’s hand again.

“Ready.” I said.

There were six people ahead of us, then four, then two.  Then we were waiting, my heart hammering as I watched the couple ahead of us move slowly down the line, running Louise’s words over and over in my head.  The woman next to us with the headset put her hand on Ben’s back and gave a little nudge and we began to walk.

“Fuck me.” I whispered in awe and Ben cracked up as he led me forward. 

He went to a spot marked on the carpet with tape and stopped, drawing me close with his hand on my hip.  I smiled, looked up and picked a camera, counted to five, picked another, looked at Ben.  He smiled and slowly walked us ahead to the next tape mark.

He leaned in slightly and whispered, “You can relax; you’re doing beautifully.”

I tried to keep him in my peripheral vision, to look where he was looking but the whole thing was madness.  The more I tried to keep my face natural, the more unnatural it felt and I began to feel slightly unhinged as we moved to the third mark.  Ben switched positions, taking my hand in his again and he looked at me, checking that I was still doing alright.  I winked at him and he whispered in my ear again.

“I meant what I said, you will scream my name.”

It was probably my most natural smile of the evening, even with the heat rising in my face as Ben grinned at the cameras, completely and utterly pleased with the results of what he’d said to me.  Suddenly Louise and her assistant were back, separating us again.  Ben went one way, off to do press interviews and Louise led me to yet another holding area.

“It’s up to you Kai.  You can either wait here for Ben, or I can get you inside and you can sit down and have something to drink.”

“He said he’d keep it short, but I think we both know the likelihood of that.”

“No, especially not with my assistant trying to move him along instead of me.  Let’s get you inside then.  At least you can get off your feet for a bit.”

She was an expert at navigating through the groups of people who congregated in the doorway and entrance hall and she quickly found me an empty table.  I slid up onto a stool hooking my heels onto a rung and sighing.

“I’ll get you a drink.  What would you like?”

“Whiskey, please Louise.  That way I won’t need to be running to the bathroom every five minutes.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I people watched until she returned.

“You did very well out there.” She said, taking a sip from her glass of water.

“Do you think so?  I can barely remember any of it.”

“You looked very comfortable.  What did you say to Ben just as you walked out?”

I told her.

“Well, it was a great moment, the two of you looked very happy.  I hope someone got a shot of it.”

I looked at her, awareness of what her job really was starting to become clear to me.

“That’s not why I said it.”

“Oh, I know, you were just being yourself.  But from my perspective, it was perfect and I’m very happy with it.  Trust me, if anyone got the shot, that’s the one that’ll be everywhere tomorrow.”

“I don’t care about that Louise.  I only care about what’s best for Ben; for the man, not the commodity.”

“They’re one and the same to me.  I don’t have the luxury of being able to keep them separate.” She spoke lightly, but my uneasiness only increased as she went on, “I have a job to do.  A large part of that is keeping an eye on his image and that means I have to be aware of things that you need never think about. I wasn’t suggesting that it’s something you have to concern yourself with at all.  I was actually complimenting you.  If having you with him makes for good pictures, then I’m thrilled; it makes my job much easier.”

I took a sip of whiskey.  I knew she was only doing what Ben paid her to do, but the mercenary way she described it had left something of a bad taste in my mouth.  I found I no longer had much to say to her and I sat quietly until Ben finally made his way to my table.

“Hello again my love.  Can I have some of that?” 

He pointed to my glass and I passed it to him.  He drained it and set the glass on the table and I slid down from the stool and put my arms around his waist.  Looking up at him, I was overcome by a wave of protectiveness and I tilted my head and kissed him on the mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

“Stop reading my face Cumberbatch.  I love you, that’s all.”

He looked at me for a moment, and I smiled, not wanting to mess this night up by getting into a discussion of what I was really thinking.  Right now, I just wanted us to have fun and enjoy the evening.  He slipped his fingers under the fringes that covered my back and pulled me close, his big hands roaming over my skin.

“I really do love this dress.” He said.

“What a shame I’ll never be able to wear it again after tonight.”

He chuckled, took my hand in his and said, “Come on, let’s mingle and I’ll start introducing you to people.”

We began to make the rounds.  There was still time before the screening began and most of the people who were in the film were just starting to make their way inside from the interview line.  Ben and I moved through the room, stopping now and then to chat and I found myself relaxing as I listened to him talking and laughing with friends, acquaintances and people he’d worked with throughout his career.  He kept interrupting my conversations by sticking his hand into the open back of my dress.  I knew perfectly well he was doing it on purpose and exactly what he was thinking about, so every time his fingers would glide across my back, my face would go red.  I casually led him away from the circle of people we were talking with and got him alone.

“The evening is young Ben; I really need you to stop doing that.”

“No, I don’t think I will actually.  Tell me something.”

“Yes?”

“Did you choose that dress to just so you could drive me mad with the thought of you walking around without a bra?”  

“I am wearing a bra,” I laughed, “but the back of it sits really low.”

“Turn around and let me see.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  You are not looking down the back of my dress in public.”

He put his arm around me and let his hand roam down my side and across my lower back.

“Ah, there it is.  How on earth does that work?”

“It’s a combination of engineering and some very sticky tape that Charlie brought along.  Now cut it out, you’re on the verge of being inappropriate.”

“Mike!” he shouted over my shoulder.

I turned to see another well-known face approaching.  Ben introduced us and then I listened to the two of them discussing what they were currently working on.  People drifted through the room, attaching themselves to groups, moving away.  The whole thing was like watching some kind of dance.  Glancing toward the door, I saw Tom come bounding in and it looked like he was also riding on a wave of energy from all the excitement.  He began working his way across the room, being stopped every couple of feet by people with outstretched hands wanting just a moment of his attention.  Louise appeared at Ben’s side and told us it was time to move into the screening room.

We found our seats and waited patiently as the room slowly filled.  Eventually, the lights dimmed and the crowd hushed.  It was a relief to be able to relax and not feel as though I had to be ‘on’ for a while.  The movie was wonderful and Tom was incredibly good in it.  Every now and then I’d watch Ben’s face, enjoying the way he lost himself in the film, how caught up he was.  As good as Tom’s performance was, I was having a hard time adjusting - making the shift between the Tom I’d met at my house and the character on screen.  I wondered if it was something I’d eventually get used to or if it would always be like this and what I’d feel the next time I saw something Ben was in. 

When the movie ended, Ben and I stayed in our seats until the crowd had thinned a bit and Louise and her assistant came to take him away again.   The after party was at a large hotel and Ben was supposed to go back out to the press line while I waited with Louise until he was finished.

“Could you please have the car brought ‘round Louise?  I think we’ll just go straight to the hotel.”

“You have to at least make an appearance on the press line Ben.  Don’t worry, we’ll keep it short.”

“No, not tonight; just call the car, Louise, please?”

Her face was absolutely frozen as she tried again.

“People will think you didn’t like the film.  You have to…”

Interrupting her, Ben stood and said, “No, I don’t.  I’ve talked to as many reporters tonight as I have the patience for.  I’m ready to go, so call the car.”

She turned on her heel and strode away, fuming. 

“I’m going to pay for that.”

I stood up and said, “You can still catch up to her.  Go ahead, I really don’t mind.”

He raised my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers, “Thank you my love, but honestly?  I just don’t feel like it.  I’d rather be with you than standing out there for the next hour, answering the same three questions over and over again and pretending it’s the first time I’ve heard them.  I’m not in the mood for it.  What I am in the mood for is going to the party, having a drink and making sure you have a good time so the next time I ask you to come to one of these things, you’ll want to say yes.  Now, let’s get out of here.  I want to hold you in my arms and dance with you like every song is a slow one until you ask me to take you home to bed.”

“Kiss me, right now.”

He smiled and leaned in, softly brushing his lips over mine.

I put my hand on the back of his neck and said quietly, “Do it again, like you mean it.”

As he kissed me, I was only vaguely aware of people moving around us, making their way to the doors and couldn’t have cared less if we were in the way. 

He rested his forehead on mine and I said, “That was much better.  Let’s do that in the car all the way to the hotel.”

We went outside to wait for the car, hanging back in the entrance to avoid the rain that was now falling.  I shivered and Ben took his suit jacket off and draped it over my shoulders.  Louise stormed up the stairs, announced that the car was waiting and walked away without checking to see if we were following.  Ben smiled and waved as reporters called his name, but he never slowed down.  I slid across the back seat while he stood talking to Louise.  I couldn’t hear the words they said, only his low rumble and her angry responses.  As he got into the car next to me, he looked up at her and said one final thing.

“If I were in the fucking film I’d talk to every last one of them twice if you wanted me to, but I’m not.  Take the rest of the night off Louise, there’s no need for you to come to the hotel.” And he pulled the door shut.

The driver steered onto the street and I looked at Ben slumped in the corner, rubbing his fingers back and forth over his mouth in frustration.

“I think she sometimes forgets that she works for me, not the other way ‘round.”

“She’s very dedicated.” I said noncommittally.

“Yes she is.  And she’s very, very good at her job but sometimes, I have to be allowed to have a night off.  If I’d thought it was necessary I’d have done the fucking interviews, but I talked to everyone important before the film.  I talked about Tom and how talented he is and said how much I was looking forward to seeing his performance; I told them what I was working on now and about the play.  What the hell else were they going to ask me?”

“If you liked the movie, I guess.”

“Right and what do they expect me to say to that?  I’d only have been repeating myself anyway.  No thank you.”

I put my hand on his leg and squeezed lightly, “Do you still want to go to the party?  Because if you’d rather not, don’t feel you have to go for me.”

“I absolutely want to go.  I want to introduce you to people and show you off and whisper rude things to you on the dance floor.  Let’s go have some fun.”

And just like that, he appeared to shake off the gloom and frustration but I knew him well enough to know that he was pretending.  He was sitting forward now, hands clasped together, forearms resting on his legs and I could see the tension in his jaw and in his hands.  I turned to face him, glad again that my dress had some give as I brought one knee up onto the seat so my shin was pressed against his thigh.

“How far away is the hotel?”

“Not far, we should be there in fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“That’s not long at all.  You should probably start kissing me now.”

Amused, he turned to me and took my face in his hands.

“What would I do without you?”

“Die of boredom most likely.  Or terminal wanking.”

Kissing and laughing, we happily passed the time until we arrived at the party and Ben told the driver we’d get a cab home and he could go for the night.   We stood at the entrance to the ballroom and under the soft light of huge chandeliers, I could see tables with towering floral centrepieces and at least a hundred people in evening dress both sitting and walking around the room as music played in the background.

“I’m going to find the bathroom.” I said, passing him his jacket.

“I’ll wait for you over there by the bar, so you can find me.”  He said, pointing across the room.

I went and had a pee and tidied my lipstick then went back to the ballroom.  I could have found him easily even if he hadn’t told me where he was going to be, because I could hear him laughing as I walked across the room.  He was standing with two other men and as I joined them, he introduced us.  One of the men was an actor and the other a stage manager and they were talking about a play they’d all done together years earlier, telling horror stories about the alcoholic older leading man.  Most seemed to involve him forgetting lines or attempting to sit down and missing the chair, but my favourite was the one where he actually passed out onstage.  People came and went, joining the group and moving on and eventually I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“I was wondering where the hell you’d gotten to.”

I turned around to be greeted by Tom’s brilliant smile as he and Ben hugged and said hello.

“Hello again Kai, you look absolutely lovely tonight.” He kissed my cheek in greeting, “How are you, is your back better?”

“My back?”

“Ben said you’d pulled a muscle and I’m afraid I hurt you when I was saying goodbye after your party.”

“Oh!  Yes, that.  I’d forgotten all about it.”  Goddamn it, I was getting tired of feeling my face turn red tonight, “It’s much better Tom, thank you.  I enjoyed the movie very much and you were so, so good in it.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, I’m glad you liked it.  Thanks Ben.” He said as he took the drink Ben was offering him, “And now I’m afraid I’m going to have to make the rounds.  I’ll come find you two later, save me a dance Kai.”  

As Tom walked away, I asked Ben, “Do you mind if we sit down?  My feet are starting to hurt.”

Ben found us a table and we sat, talking quietly, interrupted frequently.  As Ben chatted on and on to various people, I listened with half an ear, relaxed and let my eyes wander the ballroom.  Hearing him mention my name I began to turn in my seat to see who he was talking to.

“And how are you enjoying your first ever movie premiere?” asked the man with a Scottish accent.

I looked up and couldn’t help but grin at Ben as I reached to shake hands and he said, “Kai, this is my friend James.  James, meet my girlfriend, Kai Macbeth.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, “Pretty and Scottish – an excellent choice Ben.”

“Distantly Scottish I’m afraid.  I’m actually Canadian.”

“From where in Canada?”

“British Columbia, on the West Coast.”

“Oh, that’s a bit of luck.  I’m going to be making a film in Vancouver next year.   Could I pick your brain for a few minutes?”

“Of course, I’m happy to help if I can.”

“Oh Christ.” I heard Ben mutter.

“Problem Cumberbatch?” I asked, smiling sweetly.

“No, no problem.  Does anyone else need a drink?”

He got up and wandered away and I talked to James, telling him a little about Vancouver, recommending some great restaurants and offering ideas of what to do in his free time.  Someone else joined the table and James turned to say hello.

As Ben returned to his seat his lips brushed my ear and I heard him say, “If you think I’m going to spend the entire night doing his voice, you have another thing coming.”

“I think we both know you would if I wanted you to.” I said.

He stared into my eyes for a long time, the little creases at the corners of his eyes deepening with his smile.

“I would, of course.  I’d do anything for you.”

I kissed him softly then asked, “Are we going to dance soon?”

“Now, if you’d like.”

He led me to the dance floor and as he’d promised, we completely ignored the tempo of every song that played, finding our own slower rhythms and swaying in each other’s arms.  He held me tightly, one hand clasping mine and the other hot against the small of my back.  Every so often he’d whisper something to me, telling me what he was feeling, what he wanted to do to me when we got home; what he hoped I’d do to him.  I looked into his eyes as we danced until I couldn’t anymore, until I had to look away as my breathing deepened and little flutters of arousal wove through my body.

“Ben?  I’m in danger of embarrassing myself.  I’d like you to take me home now.”

“Embarrassing yourself how?”

I moved my hand from his shoulder and began to stroke his tie with my fingers.

“You know what it does to me when you talk to me like that.  Take me home or I’ll have my way with you right here on the dance floor.”

Beaming, very proud of himself, he led me to our table where we grabbed his jacket and my purse and we made a beeline for the door.  Every person who tried to stop us got a quick excuse from Ben but we never stopped moving. The doorman waved a cab over and we got in, Ben giving our address and me, laughing breathlessly. 

There was absolutely no privacy in the taxi and the cabbie was a very sweet and very chatty man.  We heard all about the vacation him and ‘the missus’ had taken that summer and he proudly listed all of his grandchildren and their various achievements.  When Ben polite as ever, asked a single question, the driver was so encouraged by his interest that he passed back a little plastic accordion cover with all of their school photos for us to admire.  By the time we pulled up at the front of the flat, I wasn’t the slightest bit aroused anymore, but I was on the verge of hysteria.

We stood on the pavement as the car pulled away and when I looked up at Ben, I completely dissolved in a fit of laughter.

“What the fuck was that?!” he asked, watching the taxi drive off down the street, “I mean, what just happened?”

“Our cabbie was you, at the age of 70.” And I lost it, doubling over at the look on his face.

We were still giggling together as we entered the front door and Ben kicked his shoes off.  I went straight to the kitchen for a drink of water and we leaned on the counter as we shared the glass.  I refilled it and Ben followed me to the sofa.  We sat and he lifted my feet to his lap.  He undid my shoes, dropped them to the floor and began to rub my feet, pressing his thumbs into my arches until I sighed and leaned back against the arm of the sofa.

“That’s lovely.”

“Keep making that sound and I’ll keep doing it.”

“Did I make a sound?”

“You know you did.”

“Hmm, imagine that.”

I sat up, put my glass on the table and began removing the pins from my hair.  Ben continued rubbing my feet, until I had a sizable pile of pins on the table and I shook my hair out with my fingers.  I moved to his lap, hiking my dress to my thighs and putting my knees on either side of his legs. 

As I put my arms around his neck and leaned into him I said, “You make sounds too you know.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, you do and I love it.  I love the way you hum when I kiss you and the way you sigh when I suck on your neck and the way you groan when I have you in my mouth.  But the best one, the one that absolutely drives me crazy is the sound you make when you’re losing control, just before your orgasm.  It comes right from here,” I pressed my palm against his belly below his sternum, “and I don’t just hear it, I feel it, in my whole body.”

“Keep talking.”

His voice was vibrating through me as I leaned forward and whispered, “Will you make that sound for me?  Will you make me feel it?”

“Yes, keep talking.”

Taking hold of his face, I swept my thumbs over his cheekbones, “As much as I like the idea of you tearing my clothes off Ben, I also like this dress and I want to keep it.  So we’re going to do things my way, alright?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I thought so.” ~~~~

I reached behind my neck and undid the hook that held the top of my dress closed.  Sliding the sleeves down my arms and letting the top of the dress fall to my waist, I watched Ben’s eyes move over my body, watched his lips part when I cupped my breasts and pushed them together, pinching my nipples through my bra.  He put his hands over mine and held them there, moving with me and I felt his hips lift into me.

I shimmied backward off his lap and bent at the waist, placing my hands on his legs and slowly moving my hands over his thighs.  Reaching for his hands, I brought him to his feet, looking into his eyes and feeling a little thrill of anticipation run down my spine.  He lowered his head and I ran my tongue over his upper lip, tracing the shape.  Our kiss deepened; I held him there for a long time while I let my hand drift from his thigh to his hip and back, again and again, until his arms went tightly around me and he pulled me close, grinding his hips into me.

I slid his jacket off, loosened his tie then popped the button on his trousers _._  He tried to help, to speed things up, but I pushed his hands aside.  Pulling his tie from his collar I opened the buttons on his shirt and slipped it off.  My fingertips lightly circled his nipples and I sighed when he brought his lips to my neck, nibbling at my skin, raising goose bumps.  I trailed my fingers down his chest, across his flat belly and I traced the shape of his erection through his clothing, heard his soft intake of breath.  I pressed harder, squeezing and releasing until his lips stopped moving on my neck and I knew his focus was entirely on my hand.  Then I slipped my fingers inside his trousers and encircled him, stroking gently.  He groaned and I sank onto the sofa and positioned him in front of me, pushing his pants down his legs to the floor.  He shook them loose and kicked them away.

“Kai.” He said, his voice raspy.

I looked up, “Yes Ben?”

“I…would you, just…”

“Just what?  Touch you?  Suck you?”

“Please, just… do something.”

“Oh, you beautiful man, the things I’m going to do to you.”

I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

Still looking up at him, I opened my mouth, taking him all the way to his groin.  I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of him on my tongue and began to move up and down, slowly bobbing my head as he slipped in and out between my lips.  With my eyes closed, I could concentrate on the way he tasted, the soft sounds I made as I sucked him and the ones he made in response.  His hand moved to my hair but I gently lifted it away, clasping his fingers in mine; this was for me as much as it was for him and I wanted to set my own pace.  I put my other hand on his hip and showed him how I wanted him to move, his body swaying into me like it had when we were dancing and I felt little spasms in his muscles as I sucked, pulling back down his length, slipping him from my mouth and taking him in my hand once again. 

He was wet, slippery from my mouth and my fingers slid easily down his cock.  I couldn’t close my fingers around him but I gripped firmly and stroked him, watched his face, his eyes fixed on my hand as it moved on his skin.

I brought his fingers to my lips and slid one into my mouth, sucking softly as I continued to squeeze, moving my hand up and down his shaft.  I took a second finger into my mouth and sucked hard, sliding my tongue over his sensitive fingertips.  He sighed deeply and thrust toward me and this time I didn’t stop him but put both hands around his hard cock, getting off on the sight, the feel of him in my hands.  Maintaining the pressure, I twisted my hands, one sliding down to his groin and the other up under the head of his penis, my thumb dragging over his frenulum with every stroke, my tongue pushing between his fingers.  His breathing changed again, started to become ragged and he tried to pull his fingers from my mouth.  I grabbed his wrist with one hand and held him fast, sucked harder and at the same time, tightened my grip on his cock.

“No Kai, wait, it’s too much.”

Still pumping his length, I eased his fingers from my mouth.

“How can it be too much Ben?”

“I’m going to come.” He panted.

“I know.  I want you to come.  I want to watch.”

As I pulled his hand back to my mouth, I sucked his fingers into me and gently bit down. 

“Oh fuck.” He moaned and I let go of his wrist, knowing he wouldn’t pull away again.

I cupped his balls, his sac tight and firm, and I pulsed my fingers in time to the movements of my other hand on his cock.  I kept tugging, rubbing until he was oozing fluid.  I smeared it with my thumb; sliding it around on the most sensitive part of him and his hips suddenly bucked.

Never relenting, my hand moved fast on his thick shaft.  He was moaning; deep, inarticulate sounds and I looked up at him, letting his fingers slide from my mouth as his muscles went rigid. 

“Yes, come for me, make that sound; let me hear you.” I encouraged.

He gripped my shoulders, his hands clenching reflexively and his first hot release spattered onto my chest.  He groaned my name and I kept stroking him, mesmerized by the sight and sound as he came, shuddering with wave after wave until he was spent and pulled back; too sensitive now for contact.  I let my hand fall and he slowly dropped to his knees, breathing hard and staring at me intently.  I looked down, ran my finger across my wet chest and raised it to my mouth, sucking his semen from my finger. 

Keeping his eyes on mine, Ben reached for his jacket and pulled his handkerchief from the pocket, offering it to me.  I took it and carefully cleaned myself with it.  Leaning into him, my hands on his face, I kissed him roughly, pushing my tongue into his mouth and he reached for me.  I stood.

“I’ll be upstairs, whenever you’re ready.”

I picked up my water and went up to the bedroom.  I turned on the bedside lamp, put my glass beside it and turned around as he ran up the stairs.  He stood in the doorway, gloriously naked, still breathing hard.  He grinned and I had to grin back.

“Come over here and undress me.”

As he approached, I turned my back and lifted my hair out of the way, waiting for him to find the zipper.  He ran his hands down my sides to my hips, put his arms around my waist and held me to his long frame, his lips moving on my neck.  I tipped my head to the side as he nuzzled my skin, nipping at my shoulder.

His hands moved back to my hips, over my bum until he found the zipper and pulled it down.  I turned to face him and let the fabric fall to my feet.  He looked down, ran his hands over my bra and lower, along my ribs to sit at my waist.

“I love every single inch of your body, the way you smell and taste and feel.  You’re perfect.”

“I’m kind of short.” I smiled.

“You’re the perfect height for me.”

“My shoulders are too wide.”

“They’re the perfect width.”

“My ass is a bit big.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong.  Your ass is perfect.” He protested.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why have you stopped undressing me?”

“I merely paused to admire your beauty.  Shall I continue?”

“Yes, now would be preferable.  There’s tape on the sides of my bra that you’ll need to pull off.”

He knelt and picked at the edge of the tape until it came loose.

“Quickly, like taking off a band aid.” I said.

He yanked and I jumped and swore as it came off.  He turned me and did the same to the other side, making me swear again.  He gently kissed the spot where the tape had been.

“Why so sensitive all of a sudden?  I thought your tolerance was higher than that.”  He was sweetly concerned.

“Usually it is,” I answered, stroking his hair, “but usually I’m in a fairly heightened state by that time, full of happy, sexy chemicals and then it feels good.”

“How are you not in a heightened state now?”

“If you weren’t taking so fucking long to get my clothes off, I would be.  Honestly, what do I have to do to get you to follow instructions?”

“You could try what you did downstairs again.  I listened pretty well then.”

“Nice try.  Take my clothes off Ben.  Please, don’t make me ask you again.”

He rolled my stockings down and off, then stood up and stepped behind me, unhooking the back of my bra.  I let it fall and his hands slipped inside my underwear, pushing them down my legs.  I stepped away from the pile of clothes and Ben pulled the covers back on the bed.

“Lie down,” I said, “in the middle of the bed.”

He got comfortable on his back and I got comfortable on him, sitting on his belly.  I bent to kiss him, sucked at his lips and our tongues slid together, fierce then gentle, hard then soft, playing with the sensations.  His hands were on my breasts, squeezing my nipples and I moved up his body so he would use his mouth.  He sucked and bit, pulling the swollen tips into his mouth, his tongue flicking at me, one side then the other and back until I was squirming against him.

“I want to taste you,” He smiled slowly, his eyes sparkling, “Come up here.”

I reached up, pulled the pillow from under his head and crawled up his body, planting my knees on either side of his head.  He reached around my waist, bringing me closer and I could feel his breath on my skin.  He pulled me to his mouth and started to suck at my lips, his tongue moving slowly, sliding into my slit, pushing me open and my breath caught as he reached my centre. 

His tongue played over my flesh, long slow strokes then pushing into me and I started to groan.  Rising onto my knees, I played with my nipples, rolling them between my fingers.  Ben’s arms went under my legs, pushing them apart and he gripped my ass, holding me to his face while his tongue plunged in and out of my pussy.

“Ooh, Ben, don’t stop.”

He made a sound somewhere between a moan and the word ‘yes’ and I gasped, my back arching as I rode his face to an incredible climax.  Shaking, I leaned back and he bent his knees to support me. 

“Jesus you’re good at that.” I said.

“You make it easy,” he answered, “you never hold anything back, so I know exactly what you like.”

I lay down next to him, his arm around me and I let myself drift for a while.  Eventually, I sat up and reached across him to get a drink of water.  I offered him the glass, but he shook his head, so I put it back on the nightstand.

“Are you tired?” I asked.

“Are you?”

“No.  And I’m not done with you yet.” 

He sat up and kissed me, nipping at my lower lip, pushing his tongue deep into my mouth.  I reached for him and was hard, ready.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked.

“I need you to lie on your side.  I want you behind me.”

We lay down and I pressed my back to his torso, wriggling my hips against his erection.  I threw my leg back over his and he reached around, his hand between my legs.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” He coaxed, his finger swirling slowly over my clit.

I turned my head to look at him.

“Get inside me Ben.   Get inside me and take me.”

“Tell me again.” He urged.

“Take me Ben.  I want you to fuck me.  Fuck me, hard.”

He took his cock in his hand and pressed it deep as I tilted my hips to accept him. 

“Oh god, I love that, the way you always feel too big at first.”

“That’s because you’re so tight, you’re wet and hot and so fucking tight.”

I moaned loudly and he started to thrust.  I’d told him exactly what I needed from him and he gave it to me.  His fingers dug into my hip as he pounded against my ass, our bodies connecting with loud slaps.  With my leg bent back over his, the angle was perfect and the friction from his long strokes began building a simmering tension deep inside my belly.

“Just like that Ben, but please, harder.”

He was grunting now as he drove into me and his arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly, his hips slamming his cock up into my body.  I was so close to release, crying out with every impact of our flesh, throwing my body against his.

“I love you, oh god I love you.” He moaned with his lips on my neck and I wailed, a rush of euphoria rolling through me as he sank himself to the hilt and we came together.

I threaded my fingers with his and held his arms around me as he kissed my back, my neck, my shoulder. 

“Now are you tired?” he asked.

“Yes my love, blissfully, contentedly exhausted.”

“Good.  Let’s go to sleep and do all of that again in the morning.”

“Anything you want Ben.  Absolutely anything.”


	19. Love and Lawyers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai switches things up and Ben likes it (not exactly a shock).  
> And it's almost her birthday and he has a few surprises in store.  
> Everyone loves surprises, right?

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 19 – Love and Lawyers 

Ben’s face was pressed into my hair and he was snoring gently.  I slid out from under him and headed for the bathroom, making a face and rubbing my ear dry with my hand.  While brushing my teeth I thought maybe I’d go out and pick up a newspaper for him but then I went back into the bedroom and looked over his sleeping form.

He’d rolled over once I’d gotten up; lying now on his back, arm across his face and a fairly obvious tent in the sheets over his groin.  I considered my options – make coffee and drag my slightly hung over self out into the rain to run to the store, or get back into bed and see if Ben was feeling cooperative.  I couldn’t imagine any reason he wouldn’t be.

I slid under the duvet and on top of him.  Folding my hands on his chest and resting my chin on them, I waited for him to wake up.  His eyes slowly opened and he blinked a couple of times.

“Hi.” I said.

“Hi yourself.” He answered, stretching underneath me.

“How are you feeling?”

“I seem to have a bit of a headache and I’m dying of thirst.”

“I think I can help with that.”

I picked up the glass of water that was on the bedside table from the night before and offered it to him.  He took it, raising his head enough to drain the glass and passed it back to me.

“Better?”

He nodded then lifted the duvet to look underneath, “Are you hiding something for my headache under there?”

I grinned, “As a matter of fact, I am.”

Stretching up to kiss him, I placed my hands on either side of his head and lifted myself up, moving my hips over his in slow circles.  I spread my legs wider until I could feel the head of his cock bump against me on every down stroke.

“Hmm,” he breathed, “that’s rather nice.”

“Rather nice?” I giggled at how formal he sounded, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it, Professor.”

“What do you want from me?  I’ve only just woken up.”  He grinned, “I’ll try again: I like the way your tits bounce when you laugh.”

Amused, I said, “You are a man of extremes.”

“Sit up so I can see you better and laugh for me again.”

“Make me.”

His warm hands wrapped firmly around my waist and I thought he’d to try to push me into a sitting position but instead he curled his long fingers into my rib cage and tickled me.  I wasn’t expecting that and I jolted upright, shoving his hands away.

“Ben!  I don’t like being tickled.”

“You’re sitting up though, aren’t you?”  He paused, “And now you’re smiling, so you’re halfway to a laugh.”

“Jesus you can be a cocky son of a bitch.” 

Suddenly he jerked himself into a sitting position, his hands on my ribs again and I tried to scramble backward only to find myself trapped as he raised his knees to stop me.  I shrieked with involuntary laughter as he tickled me again and I shoved against his chest, trying to push him away.

“Stop it, stop – Ben, I mean it!” 

I was having trouble getting the words out between laughing and gasping for breath.  Reaching for his hands, trying to pull them off, I started getting seriously pissed off that he wasn’t listening to me.  Finally, I was able to get a grip on both his thumbs, bending them backward and he froze.  Breathing hard, I glared at him.

“ _I don’t like being tickled_.”

“I heard you,” he said, his eyes glittering as he glanced at our hands then looked back at my face, “But the way you move when you’re trying to get away is fantastic.”

He moved his hips, pushing his hard length against me, knowing that annoyed as I was, I still wanted him.

“If I let go, are you going to behave yourself?” I asked.

“No.”

I bent his thumbs back a little further and he flinched.

“Don’t make me hurt you Ben.” I warned.

“Alright, let go.  I won’t tickle you.”

I cautiously released my hold on his thumbs and his hands fell to rest on my hips.  I waited, staring him down from mere inches away, daring him to try anything.  He began to laugh and I relaxed, letting my guard down and that’s when he grabbed me and flipped us over, pinning me underneath him.  I knew what was coming next so I tried to catch his hands, to keep them away from me but my movements were severely limited by his weight on top of me.  We grappled, him tickling me and me fighting to stop him and getting more and more irritated the harder he laughed at my efforts.  I finally managed to pull one leg out from under him and I wrapped it around the back of his legs.  Shoving my elbows into the mattress and using all my strength and all my frustration, I arched my back and flipped us over.  Surprised, he didn’t have time to recover before I caught hold of his wrists and pushed his arms up over his head, rising onto my knees and pressing my hands down as hard as I could.  I held him in that position and he stared up at me, both of us panting and sweaty.

“Christ, I’ve never been more turned on in my life.” He said.

I thought he was joking, trying to make me laugh again but I looked into his eyes and he was completely serious.  My annoyance was trumped by my curiosity.

“Why?” I asked.

“You physically overpowered me.  I’ve never felt that before and because it’s you it’s…exciting.”

“You’ve let me take charge before, just last night...”

“Not like this; I didn’t ‘let’ you take control, you just took it.  I would actually have to use force to get you off me right now and knowing that makes me a little nervous and very, very aroused.”  His Adam’s apple moved in his throat as he swallowed, “Kai, could we talk about this later?  Right now, I’d like…can you keep going?”

Looking at his face, his lips parted, pupils wide, I smiled.

“You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t want?”

He nodded slowly, “Yes.”

Listening to him describe how this felt to him had been enough to make the muscles in my abdomen constrict with desire.  In this position, on my knees, hands holding his wrists above his head, I barely had to move to bring my breasts to his mouth.  My nipples were standing high and I dragged one over his lips.  His tongue circled the areola, sweeping over it until I leaned over him guiding the swollen tip between his lips and pressing down on his wrists.  His mouth closed over my nipple, his front teeth scraping over it and my hips bucked.  I hovered over him as he moved back and forth, teeth and tongue and lips raising the little hairs on the back of my neck and down my spine.  Without letting go of his wrists I sat on his belly and bent to kiss him, his lips warm and wet from sucking on me.  My tongue slithered into his mouth, met his and pushed deeper.  I kissed him hard, nipped at his lower lip and heard his breath catch when I slid my body lower, dropped my hips and the head of his shaft pressed into my slick heat.

“Yesss,” he whispered as we kissed, “take me.”

I inhaled sharply; he’d said exactly the same words to me before now but this time he meant something different.  This time, he said it the way I did when I wanted to feel his power, needed to feel his strength.  To not just be taken, but taken over; consumed by him.  Nuzzling his neck, I sucked at the cords of muscle that stood out when he turned his head and he sighed, arching into me.  I brought his arms down from over his head, his elbows bending, hands beside his shoulders and I spread my knees and went lower.  His cock breached my slippery opening and I whined softly as I opened to him.

“Kai, are you..?”   

“Ssh, I’m sore from last night, but it’s good, I like it.”

I held his wrists firmly and moved only my hips, taking more of him each time, biting my lip as he filled me, listening with satisfaction to his rapid breathing.  When I had him fully, deeply inside me, I looked into his eyes.

“Spread your legs for me.” I said.

Confusion flickered briefly across his face but he did as I’d asked and I loved him for trusting me.  I slowly slid my legs between his, pushing them further apart with my knees.  Raising my upper body, I started move as closely as I could to the way he did when he was between my legs.  His eyes opened wide and he made a sound, a drawn out, ‘Ohhh’ when I began to thrust my hips.   With my thighs pressed together, every stroke dragged his long shaft over my clitoris and the friction was almost unbearable.  I was sure I wasn’t going to be able to hold on for long, could already feel the excitement building to a fire in my belly.

“How does that feel?”

“Incredible…it’s, I’ve never, oh Jesus…” He gasped, his hands clenching into fists as I began to move faster, pushing his arms into the mattress.

“Tell me what it feels like Ben.” I asked, spellbound, watching his face, hearing his soft cries.

He only moaned and I bent my head and sucked his hard little nipple, rubbing it with the point of my tongue.  He was trying to answer me but he couldn’t get the words out as I squeezed my thighs together tightly and snapped my hips rhythmically into his.

“Tell me.” I demanded, moving my lips to the other nipple and catching it in my teeth.

“Oh god, oh my god, it feels like you’re fucking me.”

With a roar like I’d never heard from him, his head flew back and his body bowed, every muscle rigid as he writhed beneath me, groaning.  He relaxed with a long shuddering breath and I let go of his wrists, taking his face in my hands and kissing him softly, slowly.  I could feel him pulsing as he spent the last of himself inside me.

I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heart pounding.  He gave a little shiver and gratified, I smiled to myself.  When he was calm, his heartbeat slowing, I lifted my head to look at him, flushed and beautiful, his lips swollen from my kisses and I reached up to brush his hair from his forehead.

“I think that was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.  I can’t move.”

“You don’t have to.  Do you need anything?”

“I’d love some more water.”

I got up, refilled the glass and carried it back to him.  He managed to roll onto his side and took it from me.  His hand was shaking.

“Jesus, you weren’t kidding.” I said, sitting down next to him.

“No I wasn’t.  I feel as though I’ve just run a marathon.” He gave the glass back to me, “How was it for you?”

I returned the glass to the nightstand, trying to think of the right words.

“Intense, like you said.” I draped my arm over his waist and stroked his back, “Strange.  Fascinating.  Erotic.”

“Yeah, for me too,” he frowned, “Not just physically but mentally.  Or maybe I mean emotionally, I’m not sure.  At first, when you flipped us over and held me down I was stunned and then it came to me that you’ve always had that potential and how much it means that you give yourself to me, that when you let me do those things to you, you’re really _letting_ me because it’s not simply that we have a safe word; you could likely stop me any time you wanted to.  Right in that moment it was so clear to me how much you trust me.”

He was looking straight into my eyes, trying, I thought, to make me see what it meant to him.

“I do.  And the further you push me, the more I trust you.  Every time we cross a line together, it gives me greater faith in you.  You always listen to me and you always seem to know how much is enough or when I need more.  Today was unexpected though.  I’ve let you know before now when I wanted to be more dominant but you’ve never asked me to, so it never occurred to me that you’d even want me take the upper hand like that.”

“It never occurred to me either.  Until you did and knew I wanted more.  I think I have a better idea of what it feels like to be you.” his face slowly flushed red, “when I told you it felt like you were fucking me, I meant it.”

Smiling I said, “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.”

“That’s how I imagine it to be, for you.”

“Ben, that was the most submissive you’ve ever allowed yourself to be.  When I pushed your legs apart and got between them?  That’s what I hoped it would feel like for you.” I continued softly, “I’m not sure I’d say it was the same as being physically penetrated by another person though.  It’s not like when I put my fingers in your mouth, it’s so much more than that.  It’s even more intimate; you’re more vulnerable, in the best possible way.  There’s nothing that compares to it.  Nothing.”  

He frowned, and finally agreed, “Yes, alright, I can understand that.  Still, it was…well, you heard me.”

“I did and that sound you made was almost enough to do it for me.  Honestly Ben, I was so distracted by watching you, listening to you, the way you reacted to what I was doing; if that’s what it’s like for you, I have no idea how you ever manage to come _,_ never mind when you come at the same time as I do.”

“Usually it’s not only what I’m feeling physically, it’s because of all those things you said – watching you, hearing you and the way you respond to me.  You make me feel powerful and alive and most of all, loved.  But then again, I’ve had more practice than you have, being in that _particular_ position.”  He grinned.

“We’ll just have to see what happens next time.”

“Count on it.  But,” he said, his arm wrapping around my waist, “it doesn’t seem fair that you weren’t rewarded for all your hard work.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I let him pull me down next to him, “You should probably do something about that.”

He rolled on top of me and latched on to my nipple, sucking hard as his hand stroked down my thigh.  He ran one finger down my slit and pushed between my lower lips.  Kissing and nibbling my skin on his way down my body, he moved his fingers over my swollen folds and slowly slid one long finger into me.  I felt his knuckle push inside and closed my eyes so I could concentrate on him, on the way he knew my body. 

“Lovely.” He whispered and he kissed my thighs and rotated his hand so his fingertip dragged over my g-spot with every stroke and then his mouth was on me.  I moaned, twisted my hands into his hair and pulled him tightly to me, remembering how it felt to be on top of him, the sounds he’d made as I drove my hips into his and already I was falling into that magic place, hot sparks shooting through me when his tongue fluttered across my clit.

Something broke our concentration; a noise, and Ben stopped moving.  We listened and there it was again, a knock.

“Ignore it, please,” I begged, “they’ll go away.”

His mouth covered me again and I felt heat, suction, pleasure.  And then I heard the front door of the flat open.

“Ben?  Kai?  Hello?”

Ben’s head shot up, “That’s my Dad.”

“Hello?”

Ben was scrambling off the bed, off me; “I’ll be right down Dad.” he called.

He grabbed his robe from the back of the door and quickly tied the belt.  I burst out laughing.

“Pants?” I suggested.

He looked down and grinned at the sight of his partial erection poking out of the robe.  He opened the top drawer and took a pair of boxers, stepping into them and taking one last lingering look at me, mouthed the word ‘Sorry’ and ran downstairs.

A few minutes later, I had pulled on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt and I went down to see what had brought Tim to the flat.  Ben was stirring sugar into his coffee and Tim was sitting at the table.

“Hello Kai, I’m sorry to have shown up unannounced.  I did try Ben’s mobile but got his voicemail.”

 “I was telling Dad that we were out last night, so my phone was off.”

“Not to worry Tim, we were awake.”

“I feel the most awful tit, but as you can see,” he sat back and spread his arms wide, “I spilled my tea down my front while I was driving.”

There was a large brownish stain covering the front of his shirt.

Concerned, I asked, “Did you burn yourself?”

“Oh no dear, it was quite cool by that time.  I got distracted, next thing I knew…well, I was a mess.  I’m supposed to be meeting friends for brunch and I can’t turn up like this, so I thought I’d stop here and see if Ben had something that might fit me.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“I’ll just pop to the loo and then I do need to get going, I’m already late.”

He went down the hall to the guest bathroom and Ben and I looked at each other, grinning at our close call.

“Sorry about the interruption,” he said, taking me in his arms, “I’ll pick up where we left off as soon as he’s on his way.”

We spoke quietly so as not to be overheard.

“There’s no hurry.  I took care of it myself.”

“What?”

“Did you think it took me that long to get dressed?  What did you expect, leaving me in that predicament?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” I said, raising my hand and running my fingers over his lips, “taste.”

His tongue darted between his lips and across my fingers.  His eyebrows went up and he asked, in wonder, “What the hell has gotten into you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve always been vocal but last night, today?  This is new.  You’re being positively, well, the word you use to describe me is filthy.”

“Am I?  Do you not like it?”

“No.  No, I love it.”

The bathroom door opened and I gave Ben a quick peck and turned away to wash my hands and pour a cup of coffee.  Tim reappeared and Ben took him upstairs to find a clean shirt.  They returned shortly and Tim went straight to the door.

“I really must dash, I’m quite late.  Thank you for the loan son.”

“No problem Dad.  I’d invite you to come back later for supper, but I’ve got to leave again for Bradford this evening.”

“That’s alright; your Mum’s expecting me home tonight anyway.  It was good to see you Kai.  Let’s all try to get together soon, call us.”

Once he’d gone, I took my coffee to the sitting room, Ben following me to the sofa.  I sat down, cross-legged, facing him.

“I hate to get serious, but you’re leaving in a few hours and we need to make a decision about ‘Down to Earth’.” 

He nodded his head, thinking for a moment then said, “Both the options Bev has offered have merits.  I think you know what I want, but what I want isn’t necessarily what would actually be best for you.  Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I set my cup on the table and idly twisted my hair into a knot while I thought.

“If we buy half, I’m still going to be working full time until Bev is back to her old self, so a few months at least.  By the start of our busy season she should be able to come in a couple of days a week and that would free me up a bit to either work in the field or travel to be with you.  She’s agreed to do her best to accommodate my schedule, our life, but in the end, she’s still going to be the boss and she’ll have the right to put her foot down and say no if she wants to, if she needs me to be around.”

“So,” he said, “If things are particularly busy or she can’t find anyone to cover, you’re going to have to stay and work, no matter what.”

“Yes.  On the other hand, if we buy the whole thing outright, I’m still going to be busy as fuck for the next few months, but part of it’s during the time when you’ll be mostly at home so we’ll still be together.  And, over the winter I’d hire and train someone to help in the office so that when things get busier, I can either work outside or be free to get away and go to wherever you are.  Maybe not all the time, but it’ll be up to me to make it work and I won’t have to feel guilty asking for time off.”

“It’s your decision Kai, but it seems fairly obvious to me which way makes more sense.”

I rubbed my face with my hands, “I think it’s pretty clear too but, Jesus Ben, it’s so much money.”

“I know my love.” He leaned over and put his hands on my knees, “and I know you’re still having trouble with this idea that you’re taking money from me.  Remember though, I’m not throwing this money away on something frivolous.  I’m making an investment in our future, in us as a couple.  You know that at this point, this is the only realistic way for you to stay here and as important as that is, you also need to be working.  I’m not blind to the fact that you’ve been happier these last couple of weeks than you have since Bev first let you go.  You’re thriving on the challenge, on the feeling of independence you get from working.  Taking the money doesn’t threaten that independence, it makes it possible.”

I knew he was right, but I had one more idea to throw in the mix.

“Ben, how would you feel if I put your name on the contract?  Made you my partner?”

He didn’t say anything at first, and I watched his face as he considered it.

“Don’t get upset when I want to know why.  Because frankly, my first question is whether this is you looking to have an out.”

“I’m not thinking that if something goes wrong with us that this would cover my ass or anything like that, I promise you.  It occurred to me when you said you’re making an investment in our future that we really should treat it like that.  Put your name on the contract and pay you a portion of any profit, like a shareholder.”

“For the love of fuck,” he chuckled, “you’re not going to take this money without finding some way to pay me back, are you?”

“I’m sorry; I just can’t do it any other way.”

“You are the most sensible, determined and frustrating person I’ve ever known.  Put my name on the contract, I’ll call Robert tomorrow and tell him that’s what’s happening.  Whatever the hell it takes to keep you here Kai, I’ll do it, because you make me happy.” 

I went to him, tucking my body into his.  His arms wound around me and he kissed the top of my head.

“That’s all I want,” I said, “if you’re happy, everything is right in my world.”

We held each other, content and peaceful and I could have stayed like that all day but we were interrupted again, this time by the growling of Ben’s stomach.

“Come on, let’s get dressed and I’ll take you out.  Dad mentioned brunch and now I’m starving.”

We took advantage of a break in the rain to walk to a nearby café.  After we’d eaten we meandered back through the neighbourhood.  I hadn’t told Ben my idea, about maybe looking for a house in the area because I still hadn’t been sure about the idea of staying in London full time.  Now that we’d finalized the decision to buy the business, I knew it was something for us to consider so I was filing the names of the prettier streets away in my mind for future reference. 

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

“Which part?” I asked cheekily.

“The premiere, you smart ass.”

“Yeah, I did, once the initial terror had passed.  I’ll go with you again if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“It was.  I know that for you there’s a lot of standing around and waiting, so I wasn’t sure if you were bored or anything.”

“It was all such a blur, so much going on and so many people; I never had a chance to be bored.  Give me a couple of years and we’ll see if I’m still so accommodating.”

He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek.

“What was that for?”

“When you say things like that, when you talk about us and years from now, I just have to kiss you.”

“Do you really have to leave tonight?”

“Yes; on Monday I have to fall off a bridge into a stream without splitting my head open so they have me practicing with a stunt man tomorrow.”

“Oh.  Well in that case, I won’t complain too loudly.”

Back at home, he’d gone upstairs to start packing and I’d opened my laptop and answered a few emails when I came to a message from my Mum confirming that they were coming for Christmas.  I ran upstairs to tell Ben my news. 

Once in the bedroom, I could hear the sound of hangers being slid rapidly along the rod, coming from the closet.  I leaned on the doorframe and watched as Ben flicked through a rack of shirts then started again from the beginning.  Halfway through, he noticed I was standing behind him and turned with a sour look on his face.

“I can’t find my green shirt, the one with the black buttons and stitching.”

“Was it in the pile of clothes I took to the dry cleaner for you last week?”

“Yes.”

I shrugged, “Then that’s where it is.” 

“You didn’t pick it up?”

“No, you asked me drop the stuff off, you didn’t say anything about picking it up.”

“I didn’t think I had to.  The one sort of goes with the other, don’t you think?”

I stared at him for a moment then said, “Ben, I never go to the dry cleaner; everything I own goes in the washing machine.  Once I dropped your clothes off, in the busyness of last week, I never thought to go back and pick them up.”

“Shit.  I wanted that shirt for this week.” 

He turned his back to me and resumed flicking through the clothes on the rack.  The tension in his shoulders would have been an obvious giveaway, even if he hadn’t been shoving the clothing aside so irritably.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked in astonishment.

“I’m not mad.  I’m annoyed.”

“About a shirt.” I said drily.

He got still and speaking very slowly said, “No Kai, not about the shirt.  I’m annoyed that it never occurred to you that if you were taking my things to the cleaner’s that I might want them back.”

“If going to the dry cleaner was something I did all the time, I would probably have remembered, but come on Ben, it’s not as though I was sitting around watching TV and eating bonbons; I was working.  And just to be clear, I’m your girlfriend, not your gofer.”

“I know that.” He snapped.

“Do you?” I snapped back.

“Of course,” he sighed, and sat down on the chair in the corner of the closet.  He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, looking down at the floor, “I’m so sorry.  I used to get excited when I started packing for a trip.  It signified work and starting something new or going somewhere I’d never been.  Now I’ve come to dread it.  It puts me in a foul mood because it means I’m going away again, from you.”

I walked over and put my hand under his chin, making him look at me.

“Starting a fight with me before you leave isn’t going to make it any easier, you big dummy.”

“No, I suppose not,” a little smile played over his face, “especially since you won’t let me get away with being a twat.”

“Over a shirt?  No, if you’re going to be a twat, pick your battles.”

“I really did want that shirt though.  I’m doing a couple of interviews this week and I need to pack extra clothes.”

“Well in that case, I’m glad I didn’t pick it up.  I don’t think it’s really the best colour for you.”

He chuckled, “You never said anything when I wore it before.”

“You’re a grown man and you didn’t ask my opinion.  But if you’re going to have your picture taken or be on camera, I do think there are better colours for you.”

“Humour me,” he waved his arm at the row of shirts, “pick three.”

I looked at the rack for only a second and pulled my choices, two in shades of blue and one light grey.

“Here.”

“That was quick.” He said, taking the shirts from me and getting up to go back to the bedroom where he put the shirts into his garment bag.

“That’s what looks good on you when your hair is this dark.  But it really doesn’t matter to me what you wear, I always think you’re beautiful.”

“You’re biased.”

“This from the man who says I’m perfect?”

“You are though.  You’re perfect for me.”

I stuck my fingers in his belt loops and pulled him close, “I love you so much.”

“I know.  And I really am sorry for barking at you over something that stupid.”

“It’s forgotten, and I’ll go to the dry cleaner on Monday on my way to work.”

“In that case, you’ll need the car keys.”

“They’re by the front door.”

“I don’t think they are.”

“That’s where I left them and you haven’t driven anywhere since you got back.”

“Why don’t you go make sure?  I’ll be down in a minute.”

When I got to the doorway, I looked back at him.

He glanced up from folding a t-shirt, “What?”

“There’s something wrong with your face.  You’re trying to look innocent.”

He laughed, “Go make sure you have the keys.”

“Ben…”

“Go.” He insisted.

I went down to the kitchen but the keys weren’t on the counter where I knew I’d left them.  I opened the closet and checked the pockets of my jacket without luck.  When I shut the door, I jumped – Ben had snuck downstairs and was standing beside me.

“O.K, they aren’t here.”

“Hmm, I wonder if they could be in my pocket.”

“Oh for crying out loud, if you wanted me to put my hand in your pants, all you had to do was ask.”

“Go on then.” He said with a grin.

I rolled my eyes but I humoured him, reaching into one pocket and finding nothing, then into the other, snagging the key ring.  I pulled it from his pocket and dangled it from the end of my finger.

“Too easy.”

“It was worth a try.” He shrugged.

I was about to drop the keys on the counter when I noticed that the fob was wrong.

“Why does this say Range Rover?”

His face was lit up with a huge smile and his eyes were bright with excitement.

“Did you buy a new car?”

He nodded.

“I thought you loved the Jaguar.”

“I do, but the Jag is mine.”

My mouth fell open, “You bought me a car?”

“Yes.  Put your shoes on and I’ll show you.”

In stunned silence, I found a pair of shoes and slipped them on.

“Let’s go, I have your wallet.”  

I let him lead me by the hand down the stairs and out the front door.  He pointed across the street to a brand new, extremely shiny black Range Rover.  

“Jesus Christ.”

“Come on.” 

We ran across the street and I pushed the button on the fob to unlock the doors.  Ben opened the driver’s door and waited while I got inside.  I leaned back in the seat and looked around the interior.  The smell of leather filled my nose and I ran my hands over the steering wheel.  Conflicting thoughts raced through my mind, I was excited and appalled and thrilled.

“Ben.”

He leaned into the car and kissed me.

“Happy birthday my love.”

“Ben…”

“Tell me you’ll keep it, please?”

“Ben, hurry up and get in or I’ll leave without you.”

Grinning, he slammed my door shut and I started the engine as he ran around to the passenger side.  I was playing with the seat controls as he got in and he barely had his door shut before I was pulling away from the kerb.  I headed straight for the motorway, taking my time and getting a feel for the vehicle.  He said nothing, but I could feel his eyes on me as I drove, waiting for a reaction, for me to say something.  I concentrated on driving and merged into traffic on the A1.  As soon as I had room, I moved into the fast lane and pressed my foot down.  It was a Range Rover, but it was also an SUV and I wasn’t expecting the power that pushed me back into my seat.  I began to smile as we sped down the road.  Ben didn’t talk, he just watched me drive, and drive I did, playing with the speed and handling, seeing what the car was capable of.  I swung around an overpass and zipped us back home, parking and cutting the engine. 

“Well?” He still looked anxious.

“Well, obviously it’s the worst car in the world and I hate it.”

He grinned, “Does that mean you’ll keep it then?”

I slowly exhaled, “I think so, even though I feel like a total hypocrite.”

“On my birthday, when I was worried about how much you’d spent on that first edition Faulkner, you said it didn’t matter as long as I liked it.  You’re only a hypocrite if the same rules don’t apply when I give you a gift.”

I turned in my seat, “But you already gave me the starfish earrings.”

“Those weren’t a birthday present, they were an ‘I love you’ present.  Not the same thing at all.”

“You’re amazing and generous and maybe a bit nuts and can I drive you up to Bradford?”

“Oh god, I’m so relieved.  After this morning when we had to talk about money again I thought there was a 50/50 chance you would rip my head off and it was too late to change my mind since they’d already dropped off the car.”

“No, I won’t rip your head off - on one condition.”

“And that is?”

“You don’t try and top this for Christmas.  I don’t know how to fly a helicopter.”

Laughing, he said, “Come on, let’s get back upstairs.  I need to finish packing.”

Later, when he carried his bags downstairs and dropped them at the front door, I was standing at the window, looking at my new car on the street.  He came up behind me and I leaned back into him as he folded me into his arms.

“I’m trying to convince myself that it’s really very practical.  For work I mean.”

“It is; that’s part of the reason I chose it.  I could have got you a flash little sports car, but it’s not like you could fill it up with plants, or put a surfboard on the roof or a baby seat in the back.  And this is the sport model, the fastest Range Rover makes, but it’s still big and safe so I won’t be biting my nails to the quick every time you drive off in it.”

I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow, “Please.  I drive fast but I’m not reckless.  God, the money though.”

“Yes, well, about that.  They’re owned by Jaguar, so I got a pretty good deal.”

“I never thought of that.”

“Not that I wouldn’t have gotten it for you anyway, but if it alleviates your concern...”

I tipped my head back to look at him, “So, can I drive you to Bradford?”

“I already have a car coming.  Stay here, go out with a friend or have a quiet night in, you’ve another busy week coming up.  Besides, it’s an eight hour round trip and you’re already coming up next weekend.  There’s no need to make the trip twice.”

“No,” I sighed, “I suppose not.  When are you going to tell me what you have planned?”

“Thursday, most likely.  I do like to build the anticipation for you.” He said, tightening his arms around me and pressing his lips to my neck.

I shivered when his tongue drifted slowly across my skin.

“Yes, just like that.” He slapped me on the ass and walked away, grinning.

“You’re lucky you just bought me a car, or I’d be really pissed right now.”

I could hear him chuckling as he walked down the hall to his office.  I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge, scanning the contents.

“Hey,” I called, “what time is your driver coming?  Do you want to eat before you go?”

“He’s booked for five but we had such a late lunch, I’m really not hungry.” He answered.

Going to the sofa, I opened my laptop and then I remembered I hadn’t yet told Ben about my Mum and Dad.  I could hear his voice, talking on the phone, so I left him alone and pulled up a file I kept of songs that I thought Jem and I could do together.  I scrolled through the list and selecting a couple, emailed the titles to Jem so he’d have a chance to look over the sheet music.  In under a minute, I had a reply, one word: ‘ _Metallica?!’_.  I sent a quick answer, _‘Trust me.  Just take a look at the sheet music.  I’ll see you on Monday.’_

Ben came walking down the hall, still on the phone, “No, of course I don’t.  Here, I’ll let you ask her yourself.”

He passed me his mobile saying, “It’s Tom.”

“Hello?”

“Hello Kai, I’m wondering if you had plans to sing at your friend Jeremy’s any time soon.  I’m home for the next little while and if you don’t mind, I thought I might invite myself along.”

“Of course I don’t mind.  I wasn’t planning on it this week; I’ve got too much going on, but – hold on a minute.” 

I asked Ben, “Are you here next week or not?”

“I’ll be home late Wednesday but I have a meeting on Thursday evening.”

“Tom?” I put the phone back to my ear, “I’m seeing Jem this week; could I call you back after that?”

“Yeah, sure.  Ben can give you my number and I guess I’ll chat with you later this week.”

“Looking forward to it Tom.  Here, I’ll give you back to Ben.”

I passed Ben the phone and he flopped down beside me while he and Tom wrapped up their conversation.  Once he’d hung up, I passed him my phone and he programmed Tom’s number in for me.

“Do you have more calls to make?” I asked.

“Nope.  You have my undivided attention.” He said, untucking the back of my shirt and slipping his hand under it.

“Stop it, I have news.” I turned sideways to face him, “I heard from my Mum.  They’re coming for Christmas.”

“That’s wonderful!  Let’s celebrate…” He leered.

“I mention my parents and you want to have sex?  That’s just all kinds of wrong.”

“My driver will be here in less than an hour and be fair, we can talk about Christmas on the phone, but I can only touch you when I’m here.”

He leaned forward, slowly pushed me onto my back, stretching out on top of me and sliding his hand under the front of my shirt.  I pulled the cushion off the back of the sofa to make more room, twined my legs over his and untucked his shirt so we were skin to skin.  We kissed and touched, gentle with each other, just wanting to be close.

“I could do this for hours.” He whispered in my ear.

“So could I, even if it does remind me of high school.”

His breath huffed into my ear as he laughed.

“Does it?  And did you do a lot of this then, in high school?”

“Um…well, yes.  Didn’t you?”

“No, not really.  I was pretty shy.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Hmm, I wish I’d known you then.”  He said, nuzzling my neck.

“If you were shy, you’d have been terrified of me.”

“You’re probably right.  Intelligent, funny and beautiful?  I’d have been intimidated.”

“I was a tough, noisy, competitive motocross racer who hung out with the shop class boys.  And you were...what?  A dreamy, bookish kid with a dramatic streak who talked too much?”

“Yeah, that’s about right.  God, you’d have hated me, wouldn’t you?”

Laughing, I said, “I think it’s a good thing we didn’t meet when we were younger.  I’m pretty sure you’d have kept your distance.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d have loved you anyway.  From afar.”

“My lovely, lovely man.  Kiss me.”

He did and he kept kissing me until his car arrived and he had to go.  I made a couple of phone calls after he’d gone, seeing if anyone I knew was free or had plans I could tag along with.  Jem was working and Charlie had a date, but Leah and Cass were going out for drinks and offered to swing by and pick me up.

I’d showered and changed and was waiting outside when they arrived.  We stood talking in a circle at the pub until a table opened up.  I was hanging my jacket on the back of my chair when Cass asked what the plan was for my birthday.

“I’m driving up to meet Ben on Friday, but he won’t tell me what we’re doing.”

She frowned, “You’re not spending your birthday with us?”

“No.  And don’t make that face at me, the only person besides Ben who’s even mentioned it before now is Jem.”

“That’s because we just assumed Jem would plan something and invite us all.”

“Then take it up with Jem,” I grinned, “I shouldn’t have to plan my own birthday party, should I?”

“No, I guess not.  I was just looking forward to all of us getting together.  We don’t see you as much as we used to.”

It was true that I hadn’t seen much of her lately, but I could tell she was skirting around something. 

“Leah and I just had dinner together and I’m seeing Jem tomorrow.  And you don’t call as much as you used to either Cass, so it’s not just me.”

Cass looked at Leah, then back at me, hesitant.

“Do you have any idea how strange it is, seeing pictures of someone you know in the newspaper or on the internet?” She finally blurted out.

“Yeah Cass, I think I may have an idea what that feels like.” I said deadpan, “I got burnt that way once and that’s why I stay away from it.  But what does that have to do with you and me not seeing each other?”

“You went to a movie premiere.” She said, “You wore a designer dress and walked on the red carpet and had your picture taken.  And it won’t be the last time.  You’re meeting famous people and doing things I only dream about and it makes me feel ordinary and boring.  Like, why would you want to hang out with me when you could be doing things like that?”

“Cass, are you kidding me?  I’m still me, I haven’t changed.”  I reached over and put my hand on hers, “I love Ben and I want to be with him for those events, to support him and because he wants me there.  But the next day, I’m back to jeans and motorcycle boots and having a beer in a pub with my friends because I’m ordinary and boring too.  I’m incredibly lucky to have found someone I want to spend the rest of my life with.  I won’t apologize for that and I can’t help that his profession puts him and sometimes me, in the public eye.  But it doesn’t make me special and it sure as hell doesn’t alter my friendship with you or anyone else.  If you’re feeling odd about it, don’t try and put it on me.”

She frowned, and Leah and I waited as she considered what I’d said.

“I didn’t mean to sound like I think you’ve done anything wrong.  I just - when I saw pictures of you from the other night, I kind of felt like one of Cinderella’s step sisters.  You know, one step removed from all the sparkle and dazzle and excitement.”

“I still do my own dishes and hoover my own flat and I have a job.  I got to dress up and play princess for a few hours and it was fun.  It was so much fucking fun,” I grinned, “but that’s not every day.  It’s not real life.  My real life happens when Ben and I are away from that kind of thing or when I’m with you guys, my friends.”

Leah piped up, “You’re jealous Cass.  I mean, come on, we all are.  A little bit.”

“I guess I am; who wouldn’t be?  Still,” she conceded, “I got to meet Tom Hiddleston because of you and there are probably people who’d be jealous of that so I should keep that in mind.  I’m sorry, I’m being stupid.”

“Cass, it’s going to be an adjustment for all of you, just like it has been for me.  At least I’m used to being with Ben now.  I don’t do that thing anymore where out of nowhere I suddenly think ‘That’s Benedict Cumberbatch’ – and if you want to talk about weird, try and imagine that popping into your head when you’re in bed with him.”

Leah clapped her hand over her mouth as she tried to swallow her mouthful of beer without spitting it all over the table.  Cass leaned back in her chair, laughing.

“You’re not serious.”

“Oh yes I am.” I smiled, “It happened more than once, in the beginning.”

“Shit, that must have been a mood killer.” Leah said.

“Fortunately, he’s very…attentive, so I was never distracted for long.”

“Ooh, details?”

“Who needs a refill?” I asked and stood up to go to the bar.

I carried our drinks back to the table, hoping they’d changed the subject.  I sat down and passed the glasses around.

“Come on, we’re waiting.”

I shook my head, “All I’m going to tell you is that we have incredible chemistry and I’m a lucky woman.”

They both looked disappointed, until I continued, “And he’s hung like a horse.”

We laughed our asses off and the whole conversation rapidly devolved into a rehash of past lovers and their shortcomings.  It was exactly what I’d needed and when the pub started getting loud, I invited them back to my place.  I put on some music and opened a bottle of wine and the three of us sprawled out on the sofa.

“So, you know that thing I said about being ordinary and boring?” I asked.

“Yeah?”

“Tom called today to see about going to Jem’s café.”   

A cushion smacked me in the side of the head.

“I hate you.” said Cass.

“It’ll be next week, either Tuesday or Thursday.  I’ll let you know and we can all make a night of it.”

I spent Sunday getting myself ready for the work week.  I did my laundry, wrote a grocery list and took my new car to the store, feeling ridiculous putting my two small bags in the back of the luxurious vehicle, but unable to stop smiling once I was behind the steering wheel.

On Monday, I got up early and, as I’d promised Ben, swung by the dry cleaner before going to work.  I had fallen into an easy routine at the office, making coffee and listening to the messages from the weekend before opening up the scheduling book and returning calls.  I drafted an advertisement for a part time office assistant with some gardening knowledge so I’d have it ready once all the paperwork was finished and then I called Bev, to let her know what Ben and I had decided.  I wasn’t sure how she was going to take the news, whether she was really ready to step away entirely from the business but she actually sounded relieved when I told her.

“I’m seeing the lawyer tomorrow Bev, so I’ll see what he has to say about the contract you provided and we should hopefully have things settled soon.”

“I have to say, I’m ready to wrap it up.  I worked so hard for so many years to get the business up and running, but Gary’s been bugging me for a while now to start making plans for retirement.  I suppose in an odd way, the car accident was actually a good thing.  I’m not sure I could’ve made the decision to sell otherwise.”

“I’m glad you’re able to look at it that way and I’m flattered and grateful that you thought of me when you needed help.”

“I want ‘Down to Earth’ to succeed and I can’t think of anyone else who would work as hard as you will to make that happen.  I can’t believe I ever fired you in the first place.”

“I can.  You’re a businesswoman first Bev.  Making the popular or easy decision isn’t always the right thing to do.  You did what you thought you needed to and I understand that.”

We hung up and I got back to work.  At the end of the day, I locked up and drove to Jem’s house.  Alice answered the door to my knock.

“Happy almost birthday!” she said.

“Thanks Alice.  Here, I brought flowers.”

“Oh you didn’t have to do that, but they’re beautiful.  Come on in, Jem’s in the kitchen.”

“Hi Jemmy,” I said, walking into the kitchen, “whatever you’re making smells great.”

“That’s the crab broth I made for the risotto.  And for starters, we’re having scallops in black butter.  I seem to recall you liked those.”

“Jem, you’re a doll.”

“Yes I am.  I called the restaurant and they were good enough to give me the recipe, so that’s your present from me.  What would you like to drink?  There’s red or white and I have Prosecco as well.”

“If either of you two will have some, I’ll open the Prosecco.  Only one glass for me, I’m driving.”

“You’re not driving anywhere.  I made up your old room.” Jem said

“That’s not the worst idea, but I’m seeing my lawyer tomorrow, so I’m not getting drunk, understand?  I need to have my wits about me.  Alice, Prosecco for you?”

Jem was drinking beer but Alice joined me and we sat at the table while Jem whipped around the kitchen, the smell of browning butter making my mouth water.  Alice had just asked when Ben was due back.

“The middle of next week.  He’s got a little time off and then he starts rehearsals for a new play.”

“When we met for dinner, I told him about an exhibition that some of my friends are putting on and he sounded interested.  It opens the weekend after next and I can put you on the guest list if you like.”

“I’ll mention it to him when he calls later.  Don’t let me forget.  Oh, and Jem?  I talked to Tom the other day and we’re going to come to the café one night next week.”

“Ooh, you talked to Tom, did you?” he said in a fake posh voice, mocking me.

“Not you too?  I thought I could count on you of all people not to go peculiar on me.”

“Hey, I’m only teasing.” He came over to the table and put his hand on my shoulder, “Why so touchy?”

I told him about my talk with Cass on Saturday night.  We had talked through it but I hadn’t realized how much her words had affected me until Jem had made fun of me.

“I don’t know if I’m being overly sensitive or what, but the idea that being with Ben would change me kind of pisses me off.” I said.

“I think the idea that your friend thinks it would go to your head is what pisses you off.  Cass isn’t usually like that and she knows you.  Is it possible you got your wires crossed about what she meant because it’s something you’ve worried about yourself?   That maybe being with Ben will change you, that you might lose touch with reality?  Face it Kai, your life is very different from how it was six months ago.”

I thought about it, not surprised at Jem’s ability to put what I was thinking into words.

“Yeah, you could be right.” I agreed, “I guess I have worried about getting used to the more…glamorous aspects of being with him.  I mean, what would that say about the kind of person I am for fuck’s sake?  I don’t want to believe that I’m changing because of him, because our life together is so different from the way I lived before.”  

“Being in love does change you, especially at the beginning when it gives you tunnel vision and it’s all you can see but later too as you adapt to being with that person.  You’re still you, but Kai, you have changed since you met Ben.”

“But I don’t think I have.” I insisted.

“Sure you have.”  He raised his hand to stop me interrupting, “I didn’t say it’s given you delusions of grandeur.  It’s more like being with Ben has relaxed you in some way.  You still don’t think before you speak and you’re still honest and you still have a temper and a foul mouth.  You’re the same you that I’ve known since the beginning, but you’re…softer.  I like it because I think it means you’re happy, deep down in your soul happy.  And for what it’s worth Kai, I don’t think this thing with Ben has gone to your head at all.  If you are right about Cass and she thinks it has, then she can take it up with me because I’ll set her straight.”

 “Thank you Jemmy, you really are the best.”

“You know,” Alice said, “he says nice things about you even when you aren’t around to hear them.  If I had a friend like him, I wouldn’t be too worried about what anyone else had to say.”

Jem had returned to his pans on the stove and I smiled at Alice.

“He’s a good catch.” I said.

“Oh, I know.”

“Thanks Kid.” Jem said, looking at Alice with a twinkle in his eye.

“You’re welcome Old Man.” She answered.

When the scallops were almost ready Alice got up to help Jem with the plating.  They moved around the kitchen together with an easy familiarity, used to working together, used to being in the same space and it was lovely to see.  I wanted Jem to have what I had, to have someone to share his life with.

The scallops were even better than they’d been at the restaurant and the crab risotto was so good that I had a second helping.  I didn’t have room for dessert yet, so we took our glasses to the living room and Jem pulled out his guitar and started to tune up.  I leaned back in my chair and groaned.

“I think I’m too full to sing.  I might have to undo the button on my jeans.”

Alice offered to lend me something of hers to wear and I raised my eyebrow at Jem before I followed her down the hall.

“She’s got extra clothes here?” I whispered, “Jeez Jem, it sounds serious.”

“We’re getting there.  She even has her own toothbrush.”

Laughing, I went to Jem’s bedroom where Alice had found a pair of yoga pants that I changed in to with a sigh of relief.  They were too long but I rolled up the cuffs and went back to Jem and my glass of wine.  Alice disappeared and I could hear her loading the dishwasher while I sat on the couch with Jem and we looked at the songs I’d emailed him. 

“Alright, let’s give ‘Nothing Else Matters’ a go.” He said.

Jem played and I sang along.  We started and stopped, changing the phrasing here and there, trying different harmonies until we were able to run through the whole song a couple of times and Alice, now sitting in the armchair clapped at the end.

“That was really pretty.” She said.

“I think it works,” Jem agreed, “But I have no idea how Kai heard it and thought to do a country version.”

“If Metallica had added some steel guitar instead of violins, it already would have been a country version.” I said, “Anyway, I sing country, so that’s what I hear in my head.”

“Yeah, well speaking of which, instead of this,” he said, sliding the music for the other song I’d suggested out of the way, “let’s see what we can do with this one.”

I took the sheet music from him and grinned, “I know this song.  I can’t believe we never thought to do it before.”

“Sing it,” he said, and began playing the intro to ‘Mean’ by Pink.

This song was harder to sing than the first one, taking more breath control, so I stood up but by the middle of the second time through, we were already happy with the sound.

“I need something to drink.” I said and went to the kitchen to refill my glass.

Jem was fiddling with his laptop and Alice looked at me as I walked back into the room.

“You know, the two of you together are really something.  It’s interesting, the way you work together, you make it look so easy and then these amazing sounds come out of you.”

“Thanks Alice,” I said, Jem glancing at her with a little smile, “this is one of the things I miss most about not living here.  We used to sing together all the time.”

“Here, put this on.” Jem said, passing me a small microphone that fit over my ear, “Let’s record these so we both have something to practice with.  I’ll email you the files.”

We ran through both songs again then we took a break so we could have dessert.

“I wasn’t kidding though, I am not singing ‘Happy Birthday’, especially now.” said Alice.

By the time we’d finished our cake, I was getting tired.  I’d only had two glasses of wine, so in the end, I decided to drive home.  Jem argued, insisting that I stay since he’d already bought croissants for breakfast.

“I don’t think so Jem.  I have that appointment tomorrow and I don’t have any clothes here.  I’d have to get up at the crack of dawn and run home to change first, so, thank you but I think I’d just as soon sleep in my own bed.”

“Yeah alright, but you’re welcome to stay any time, you know that, right?”

“Of course.  Next time I won’t come on a work night.”

Together they walked me to the door where I put my shoes and coat on.  Alice ran down the hall and grabbed my jeans from the bedroom and told me I could bring her yoga pants to the restaurant next time I went. 

We stepped out onto the landing and I pressed the button on my key ring.  The lights on the Range Rover flashed and the doors unlocked with a thunk.

“What the hell is that?” Jem asked, his eyes huge.

“It’s my birthday present.” I answered, a bit embarrassed, even in front of him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No joke.  He gave it to me on Saturday.”

“That’s…that’s…wow.”

“I know, right?  I couldn’t believe it either, but Ben can sound very reasonable when he puts his mind to it.  He says it’s fast, safe and perfect for work.  Personally, I think he’s already measured it to see how many baby seats will fit in it.  If he has his way, in a few years, we’re going to pull up in front of your house and it’s going to look like a clown car unloading.”

They came down the stairs with me and Jem hopped into the passenger seat to have a look at the interior.

“Nice.” He said.

“I know.  And it’s a dream to drive.  And despite the conversation we had earlier, I don’t even feel that guilty.” I admitted.

“Oh for Christ’s sake, why should you feel guilty?  The man loves you and wants to do nice things for you.  Let him.”

“I’m so glad I came over tonight Jem.  It was good to see you.  And you Alice.” I said, leaning forward to smile at her, “I’ll let you know about the exhibition.”

They said goodnight and Jem shut the door before I waved and pulled away.  At home, I had a quick bath and checked the time, wondering if it was too late to call Ben back.  He’d left a message telling me he was going out to eat but would be back in his room before 10.  It was nearly midnight.  I decided to chance it.

His voice was muffled when he answered.

“I’m sorry, I woke you up.”

“No, I just took a mouthful of pie.  Hold on.”

I heard him take a sip of something and swallow.

“There, better?”

“Yes, clear as a bell.  What are you doing eating pie at this hour?”

“The place where I had dinner makes the best apple pie I’ve ever had and I brought a piece back with me.  I couldn’t sleep, so I got up to watch a movie and figured, ‘what the hell’, it’s not like it’s going to keep me up.”

“Why can’t you sleep?” I asked, climbing into bed and wedging a pillow behind my back.

“I don’t know.  I had the same problem last night.  I tossed and turned for hours.  I actually dozed off in my chair on set today.”

“That doesn’t sound good.  Are you worried about something?”

“No.  I miss you though and even when I do fall asleep, I keep waking up and looking for you.”

“You say the sweetest things.  I wish I could get away.”

“Will you stay on the phone?  Just talk with me for a while, maybe it’ll help.”

He sounded sad and exhausted.  I told him to get back into bed and I’d stay on the line with him, talk to him, until he thought he could sleep.  He told me about his day and I told him about my dinner with Jem and Alice.  He asked me if I’d send him the songs we’d recorded so he could hear them.  I kept talking to him, about nothing of any importance, until eventually, I heard him yawn and his voice began to get quieter.

“Thank you my love, good luck with your meeting and call me tomorrow night.”

“I will.  Sleep well Ben.”

I hung up, double checked my alarm and turned off the light.  And then I lay awake in the dark for hours, worrying about Ben, worrying about my meeting, worrying about not sleeping.  When the clock buzzed in the morning, I could barely drag myself out of bed.  Two very strong cups of coffee later, I was standing in the closet, tucking a crisp white shirt into my skirt, dressing as professionally as possible for my meeting.  I found my belt, but my boots were nowhere to be seen.  Running into the loo, I quickly clipped my hair back and put my starfish earrings in for luck, then grabbed my back pack with a change of clothes for later and found my boots in the downstairs closet by the front door.

Making my way through the early morning city traffic to the lawyer’s office, I ran through my questions over and over in my mind, to be sure I didn’t forget anything, needing to get this whole process taken care of as soon as possible and not wanting any more delays.  Once I was being led into the office, shaking hands with Mr. Burton, the attorney, I was pleasantly surprised to find myself relaxing, my nerves falling away as we got acquainted.  As he asked questions about the business, I knew I was on solid footing, that I knew what I was talking about and my confidence grew. 

I’d messengered the original contract from Bev to his office as soon as I’d booked the appointment, so he began by passing me a second copy of the contract, the original of which was in front of him and we went through it practically line by line, both of us asking questions, clarifying small points.  Since there was nothing major in Bev and Gary’s original offer that needed to be changed, we got through it fairly quickly.  Everything was clear sailing until I explained to him about putting Ben’s name as my business partner and that’s when things got a bit more complicated.  We discussed percentages and payment schedules and finally, after what seemed like ages, we wrapped up.  Mr. Burton walked me out, explaining that he’d have copies sent to my office and to Ben’s business manager as soon as they were ready for our signatures.  I pressed him for a date, mentioning my visa and he promised we’d have them no later than Monday.  I walked out on a cloud of air and drove to work with my mind buzzing.

It was nearly 11 o’clock by the time I got back to my office and I couldn’t believe how many messages were waiting.  This was supposed to be the beginning of our slow season, but so far, there was no sign of it.  I knew I should be glad of it, and I was, but between my sleepiness and being distracted, thinking about the contract and my visa, I’d been hoping to get out on time.  As it was, after scheduling, payroll and going over the accounts, it was already dark as I locked up and walked back to my car.

Once home, I pulled some soup from the freezer, threw it in the microwave and flopped onto the sofa, idly flicking through channels on the T.V. until I heard the beep from the kitchen.  By the time I’d eaten, my eyes felt like they were full of sand and I went to bed early, only to be woken by my phone.

“Oh shit, were you asleep?”

“Yeah, but that’s alright.” I stretched and turned on the bedside lamp.

“How come you’re in bed so early?”

“I couldn’t sleep last night either.  I was worried about you and I had visions of contracts dancing in my head.  How was the rest of your night?  Did you sleep?”

“For a while, I woke up about 4.  Still, I slept better for having heard your voice.  Are you too tired to tell me about the lawyer?”

“No, and if it helps you to sleep, I’ll talk with you as long as you like.  Are you in bed?”

“Yup, I am.  So, tell me all about it.”

I told him all the details, big and small and made sure he’d let Robert know that the contract would be on its way.  After that, we talked a bit about Christmas and my parents, about how busy the office had been and again, I stayed with him until I could hear in his voice that he was drifting, tired enough now to sleep, I hoped.

“I’m going to hang up, I love you Ben.”

“I know you do.  Goodnight Kai.”

This time, I fell asleep easily, with his voice still in my ears and woke ten minutes before my alarm rang.  I was seeing my immigration attorney today, but not until the afternoon, so I went to work and tucked my nose into the books, trying to get as much done as possible before I had to leave.  I was hoping to get far enough ahead that I could leave on Thursday night instead of Friday and spend an extra night with Ben in Bradford.

The meeting with Mr. Lancer was over fairly quickly and he was cautiously optimistic of my chances with Immigration.  His office had almost all my paperwork in order, the signed sale contract for ‘Down to Earth’ was the last piece they were waiting for.  Once I could get that to him, they’d send the whole package on and then it was out of all our hands.  It was exciting and not a little terrifying to realize how much it all meant, that in a matter of weeks, I’d know for sure what my future held.

I sat in the carpark, waffling about whether to go home or to go back to work for a few hours and chose the latter.  I stopped on the way to pick up something to eat and sat in my office, talking to Jeremy on the phone, having him explain VAT filing rules while my head spun.  Thanks to his help, I made huge inroads in the stack of work that had piled up with Bev being away but again, it was dark before I left for the day.  I called Ben from the bathtub, but he didn’t answer and I hoped it was because he’d turned his phone off and gone to sleep.  He didn’t call back until the next morning when I was back at work.

“I’ve only got a minute but I wanted to know how your day went.”

I could tell he hadn’t slept by the roughness of his voice.

“I think I’m getting superstitious.  Mr. Lancer thinks it’s looking good, but I’m afraid to uncross my fingers just yet.   You sound terrible.”

“I sound better than I feel.”

“Why didn’t you call me last night?  I’d have kept you company.”

“It doesn’t seem fair to keep you up just because I can’t sleep.”

“My love, you’re so tired I can hear your lisp.   For heaven’s sake, if talking to me helps you to sleep then call me.  I make my own schedule, so if I go in late, I just stay a little later.  Promise me, tonight, when you’re ready for bed you’ll call.”

“I don’t feel right about…” He rasped.

“Stop it.” I interrupted gently, “How many times have I told you I’d do anything for you?  The only thing that’s not fair is not letting me help you.  And honestly, staying up late and listening to your voice on the phone is not exactly a hardship.”

He chuckled, “Alright, I’ll call you tonight, I promise.  I have to run; they’re waiting for me in make-up.”

When he called back that night, I was waiting with a notepad and pen ready.

“It’s time to tell me what you have planned.  I need to know what to pack for the weekend.”

“It’s only Wednesday.  The longer you wait, the better the surprise.” He said.

“Listen you; this has been a very busy and stressful week for me.” I grinned, “I’d like to know what’s going on because whatever you have planned, I also have some ideas for what I want for my birthday.”

“Do you indeed?  I thought I was in charge of making sure you got what you needed this weekend.”

I felt the hairs on my arms rise and my skin prickled.

“Jesus, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t use that voice when you’re not here, not with me.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not.  You know what it does to me.”

“If I told you to touch yourself right now, would you do it?”

“Yes,” I shivered, “but don’t, please?  I want to wait until we’re together.”

He was quiet for a moment and when he spoke again, the edge was gone from his voice.

“Yes, well, I suppose anticipation works both ways.  I’ll tell you what to pack.”

“I’m ready, go ahead.”

“You don’t need anything fancy, just your regular clothes but bring a warm jacket; it’s going to be windy.”

“It’s going to be windy, where?”

“Nice try.  I’m still not telling you that.  Where are you?”

“In the sitting room.”

“Can you go down to my office?”

“Just a second,” I said and got up, walking down the hall, “O.K. I’m here.”

“Go to the desk and sit down.”

I did.

“What now?”

“There’s a bag under the desk, take a look inside.”

I pulled a large, heavy duffel bag out from under my feet and opened the zipper.  It was full of motorcycle leathers and Ben’s boots, helmet and gloves.

“Ben, if you bought me a new bike, I’m going to kill you.”

“I didn’t,” he laughed, “but I need you to bring my riding gear and your own when you come up.”

“Because…”

“Because we’re going to need it.”

“You’re making me crazy.”

“No, you were like that when I met you.”

Grinning, I said, “Fine, pack my leathers, got it.  What else?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

 “It’s personal, very personal.” He warned softly.

“Go ahead; I don’t keep secrets from you.”

“Have you ever had a ménage a trois?”

I tried to swallow but found my mouth suddenly dry.  We had never really discussed what we would or wouldn’t be willing to do together.  We’d never had to because until now, we’d seemed to find our way, discovering what worked for each of us, or didn’t, by trying it.  This was new territory and I was thinking of all the times I’d asked him if I’d ever said no to him, all the times I’d encouraged him to cross a line and trusted that we would be safe together.  I closed my eyes.

“No, I haven’t.  Have you?”

“No, I haven’t either.  Have you ever thought about it?”

“I’ve thought about it.  But Ben, I don’t think, I don’t know if…” My voice died in my throat.

“No, no my love, I’m not asking if you want to.”

“Oh thank Christ.” I exhaled.

“Kai,” I could hear the smile in his voice “if I were to ask you for something that big, would it be on the telephone?”

“Well, Jesus Ben, I don’t know, you’ve asked me a whole lot of things on the phone.  The way you were talking, that’s what it sounded like.”

“Beautiful girl, do you actually think I’d want to share you with anyone else?  Can you imagine that I would be willing to watch someone else touch you the way I do?   No Kai, not even for a second.”

“Then what were you trying to ask me?”

“In the bottom right hand drawer, there’s a box.  Go ahead and open it.”

I pulled the drawer open and found a bag containing a white box a bit smaller than a shoe box.  I set it on top of the desk and took the lid off, looking inside.

“Ben, there’s a dildo in this box.”

“It’s a vibrator actually.”

“What do I need a vibrator for?  I have you.”

“I’m not always there.  The other morning for example, when I left you to your own…uh, devices, it might have come in handy.”

“So to speak,” I said, lifting the vibrator out of the box and taking a closer look, “But what does this have to do with…oh.”

“Kai, I’d like you to bring it with you this weekend, but only if you want to.”

I turned the toy over in my hand, considering what he was asking me to do, to let him do to me.

“It’s not that big,” I said, “I mean, relative to what I’m used to.”

“Yes, well, I did take that into consideration but it’s still significantly larger than my fingers.  I won’t push you Kai, it’s entirely up to you, but I wanted you to have some time to think about it.”

“Anticipation?” I asked.

“Yes, there’s that.  But it’s also something new for us and for you I’m sure it’ll be uncomfortable, maybe even painful, at first.  I didn’t want to spring it on you at the last minute; you need time to decide whether it’s even something you want to try.  If the idea does nothing for you then leave it at home.  If you’re even considering it, then bring it and we’ll see what happens, together.”

“I’ll think about it.” And I would, because even hearing him talk about what he wanted had, as always, aroused me.  “Honestly, I’ll probably be able to think of little else.”

I put the toy away and sat back in the big leather chair, staring at the box while Ben remained quiet, waiting for me to speak.

Wanting to lighten the mood, I let him hear that I was smiling and asked, “Why do you do these things to me?”

“Because of the things you do to me, because of how I feel when I’m with you.  Nothing feels better to me than when I make you surrender to what you’re feeling, when you lose yourself in us.  I love that.  I love you.”

“I love you too Ben.”

“I know.  But don’t do this for me.  If you choose to let me do this, do it for yourself, do it because the idea excites you and you want to know how it feels.  I bought the vibrator a while ago.  Long before you told me, before you made me understand that it makes you feel vulnerable when you take me inside you.  I would never want you to do something solely for me if it doesn’t feel right to you.  I wouldn’t ever put you in that position.”

“I know that, I know you wouldn’t.”

“I like seeing the ways you find pleasure in what we do together.  I enjoy pushing your limits, and yes, sometimes I enjoy seeing you right on the edge because it’s exciting for me to see how far you’ll go, how far you’ll let me go.  But Kai, in the end, it’s always your decision.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that, you never let me forget.  So, I’ll think about it.  Now, what else do I need to bring tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s only Thursday.”

“Fuck.” I mentally kicked myself, “It was supposed to be a surprise.  I’ve been working late all week so I could leave a day early.  I thought you might sleep better if I was there.”

“So you’re coming up tomorrow?”

“Yes, but I don’t know what time.  I’ll call you when I’m leaving work.”

“Now I’m going to be too excited to sleep.”

“Oh well, we’ll deal with that when I get there.  I’m going to hang up now and finish packing; I need to take all our gear with me to work in the morning.  But listen, Ben, if you really can’t sleep later tonight, call me.  I mean it.”

“I love it when you’re bossy.”

“Good thing we’ll have an extra night together then, since I have a feeling I’m not going to be in charge of anything else for the rest of the weekend.”  

“No, you won’t.  But I’ll make sure you enjoy every minute.” He said in that dark voice, chilling and enticing.

“I’m looking forward to it.  Good night.”

We hung up and I dragged his bag of riding gear to the front door then went up to the bedroom to pack my bags for the weekend.  I was glad I had a list to work from, because my mind kept going back to the little white box sitting on his desk and it was distracting as hell.

In the morning, I carried bag after bag down to the car, locked up and went to work.  I dug in, ate a bag of crisps at my desk for lunch and drank coffee for dinner.  I had spoken to Phil, Bev’s longest standing employee and had made sure he’d check the office over the weekend and call my mobile if there were any problems and I had everything else as caught up as it could be.  I called Ben and told him I was leaving.

“I haven’t eaten yet, would you like me to wait?  We could go out for a late supper.”

“I won’t be there until after 10.  You should probably go ahead and eat now and I’ll just grab something on the road on my way up.”

I did stop on the way to get a large coffee and a bun, but I was eager to get there, so I ate as I drove.  I called Ben when I arrived and he came down to help me unload the car and carry all our bags upstairs.  Stuffing everything into the bottom of the closet, I turned to have a good look at him.  He looked drawn, his mouth tight and tense and the lines on his face that I usually loved seemed deeper.

“You look awful.”

“Thank you very much.  You’re right though.  My make-up person has been having fits all week trying to cover these up.” He pointed to the large, dark circles under his eyes.

“I forgot to check the call sheet you sent me; what time are you due on set in the morning?”

“Early, seven a.m.”

“I’m going to have a quick shower and then we’re going straight to bed.  You need to sleep.”

“Yes, but now you’re here…”

“No.  Not tonight.  Tonight, just sleep.  Don’t forget to set your alarm.”

“Fine.” He huffed.

I took my overnight bag into the bathroom and clipped my hair up, stepped into the shower.  A moment later I heard the door knob rattle and his cry of disgust.

“You’ve locked the fucking door!” He shouted.

“Yes, because I know you.  Go to bed, I’ll be out in a minute.”

I toweled off and pulled on a thigh length grey chemise, let my hair down and went into the bedroom.  He was sitting up, pillows against the headboard and script in hand.  He looked up.

“Oh come on, look at you!  How am I supposed to just go to sleep?”

“I’m going to help you.” I said, walking to the bed and taking the script from his hands.

I sat next to him, reached up and pulled his glasses off, set them on the table beside the lamp and I kissed him, very, very gently.

“Now, get comfortable, on your stomach.” I said, flipping the cap on the little bottle of bergamot body oil in my hand and pouring some into my palm.

He inhaled deeply, smiling, “That smells like you.”

“I’m sharing some of my personal stash, that’s how you know this is true love.” I said, rubbing my palms together.

He moved to the centre of the bed, adjusting a pillow under his head and stretched out on his belly.

“Arms up for now Ben,” I said, sliding my knee over his body and sitting up on his bum.

He put his arms under the pillow and let his head drop to the side.  Still rubbing my hands together, I let my eyes wander, seeing how his muscles moved under his pale skin as he got comfortable, wondering if it would be possible to count the freckles across his upper back.  I bent and pressed a kiss onto his spine, right between his shoulder blades and then I began to smooth my hands over his back, spreading the oil over him.

He sighed deeply and already, he was relaxing.  I took my time, started gently to warm his muscles and stroked from his neck all the way down to where I sat, searching out the places where there were knots that would need my attention.  I added a little more of the scented oil and gradually increased the pressure, smoothing my fingers over the tight spots, working on each of them until they released and he sighed again.

“Nice.” He mumbled and I smiled.

I leaned forward now, pressed my palms against his skin and moved up to his neck and shoulders.  He groaned as I manipulated his trapezius muscles with my hands, squeezing and releasing, running my fingers up his neck and into his hair, lightly massaging his scalp and he moved his hips under my bum.

I slid to the side, “Roll over Ben.”

He slowly turned over, yawning hugely and he smiled at me.

“Forget it.  I’m only massaging you so you can sleep.”

His eyes fluttered shut.  Kneeling beside him, I re-oiled my hands and started on his chest.  His nipples rose the moment I touched him and I let my fingers drift over them, only for a moment, then moved to his biceps, one arm at a time, slowly down to each forearm and finally to his hands, driving my thumbs into his palms and stroking each finger until his hands hung loose and relaxed.  I eased up and moved my hands lightly down his torso, warming his skin and pushing the blankets off him.  My hair fell over his chest and I kissed lightly down his belly, my hands sliding down the outsides of his thighs.

“Yes.” He whispered.

If the massage had simply put him to sleep, I’d have been content, but I wasn’t at all surprised that as relaxed as he was, my touch had had the usual effect.  I rested my cheek on his belly and pressed my lips to the head of his hard cock.  It was velvet-smooth, warm and I opened my mouth, sliding my mouth down and holding him against my tongue.  I sucked, stroked with my tongue and barely moved my head.  I caressed his thighs with my hand and reaching up, cupped his balls, stroking gently to keep him in this blissed-out state.  He moved one hand, buried it in my hair, but he didn’t push, he was only making contact, enjoying the feeling as he ran his fingers through it.

Still moving with infinite slowness, I sucked harder, began to let my mouth drift lower on his shaft and heard his breathing shift, could tell his mouth was open by the way he moaned as I brought him closer to the end.  It took no great effort, no fireworks or tricks.  I simply relaxed, took him all the way in and drew back, sucking hard.  I felt him throb, and then with a deep cry, his hips rose and he came in my mouth.  I swallowed, licking at him until he twitched, sensitive, and I let him slide from me.

I rolled over, turned off the light and pulling the blankets up, curled myself into him.

“Sleep my love.” I whispered.


	20. There's a Fine Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben takes Kai away for her birthday.  
> He's lovely, until he's not. But don't worry, she likes it.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 20 – There’s a Fine Line

 

As Ben got out of bed, I pulled his pillow over my head and tried to drop off to sleep again.  But the room was small, so even though he was trying to be quiet I was wide awake by the time he came out of the bathroom with his hair still damp and his shirt flapping loose around him.  He came to sit beside me and I rolled onto my back, resting my head on his leg and gazing up at him.

“I keep expecting to hear ‘I’ve Got You Babe’.”  I yawned.

“What?” He asked, looking baffled.

“All this waking up in hotel rooms has made me think of _Groundhog Day_.”

“You are a deeply odd woman.”

“You’ll get no argument from me.  Did you sleep?”

“Yes, through the night for the first time this week, thanks to you,” He took my hand, raising it to his lips and kissing my fingers, “and your magic hands.”

“Good, although I’m not so sure it was my hands that did the trick.”

He grinned, “Just having you here would have been enough.  The massage and…the rest of it, was lovely though.  I do love the way you take care of me.”

“The rest of it.  Aren’t you a delicate flower?” I teased, “And I like taking care of you; it’s one of those ‘couple’ things.”

 “What are you going to do today,” he asked, fumbling with the button on his cuff, “while I’m working?”

“Depends when you’ll be back.” I said, reaching for his sleeve and slipping the button into the hole.

“I’m only shooting a couple of scenes and I’m supposed to be finished by two.”

“Is there somewhere I could go for a run?”

“You could try Lister Park.  It’s a bit civilized for the kind of running you like, but it’s very pretty and it’s easy to find.  You can do laps ‘round the lake.”

“Or,” I said, running my fingertips over his bare belly, “you could give me a quick work-out now and I can just stay in bed all day like a lazy slut.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Please?” I asked and leaned over, pressing my lips to the skin just above his waistband.

His hand caught in my hair and he gently pulled me back.

“Stop it, you’ll make me late.  You weren’t having it when I tried this last week and unlike you, I don’t set my own schedule.”   

“But it’s almost my birthday.”

“Temptress.” He said, slipping off the bed and bending to kiss my mouth after each word, “Siren.  Lorelei.  I have to go but I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Yes, you will.” I agreed.

He did his shirt up, grabbed his bag off the desk and blew me a kiss on his way out the door.  I ordered coffee and a newspaper and took my time with both before I got dressed and went down to the lobby, speaking with the concierge to get directions to the park. 

It was a beautiful morning, cool and clear with pale autumn sunshine filtering through the trees.  I walked for a bit until I warmed up then started running around the lake.  Ben was right, the wide, paved path was very tame but it was so pretty and peaceful that I didn’t even bother with my earbuds, just ran and listened to the birds and the sounds of children playing and distant traffic.  I worked up a good sweat and after about an hour, I made my way to my car and back to the hotel where I showered and changed before heading out again to kill a few hours.

I didn’t have a plan, I just wandered up and down the streets, exploring.  If a store looked interesting, I’d go in and browse for a while, but I didn’t buy anything.  I stopped in at a little tea shop and wasted another hour, drinking Earl Grey and people watching.  It was driving me crazy not knowing exactly what Ben had planned for the weekend and I didn’t think I could stand to sit around the hotel room waiting for him to get back.  As it was, he was at the front desk when I walked through the door and I caught the end of his conversation as I approached.

“Yes sir, ready to go, just pop by the desk again on your way out.”

“What are you doing?” I asked from behind him.

He jumped and looked over his shoulder at me.

“It’s very rude to sneak up on people.”

“I wasn’t sneaking.  That’s your guilty conscience talking.”

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yup, all set.”

One of the staff came upstairs with us, pushing an empty luggage trolley and we loaded it up with all our gear and went outside to pack everything into the Range Rover.  Ben disappeared when I wasn’t looking and returned as I was tipping the bellman, carrying a large box which he stowed in the back.

“What’s in there?” I asked.

“None of your business,” he said, closing the rear door, “may I have the keys please?”

I held my hand out with the keys closed in my fingers, and said playfully, “Spill it Cumberbatch.”

“Honestly, could you be any more childish?  It’s a surprise for later, so you can bloody well stop asking.  Now give me your keys.”  

He held his hand out, palm open.

“Not until you tell me what’s in the box.”

“Kai,” he said, leaning in close and lowering his voice, “this is not a negotiation.  Keys.”         

I looked up at him, fascinated by the way his face changed with his voice and I opened my hand, dropping the keys into his palm.  He took my hand, leading me to the passenger side of the car and opened my door, waiting for me to get in.

He leaned in close, running his thumb over my mouth and said quietly, “That had better be the last time this weekend you make me repeat myself, understand?”

I nodded slowly while staring into his blue eyes, strangely dark as he bent to kiss me, letting me feel his teeth.

“Say it.”  He whispered against my lips.

“I understand.”

He nodded and stepped back, closing my door.  As he walked around to the driver’s side, I exhaled; floored once again by the effect he had on me when he was like this.  I still didn’t really understand it.  The theory Jeremy had offered about my need to give up control; the explanations I came up with in trying to explain it to myself and to Ben, seemed to only be a part of it.  There was something primal in me that responded to his dark side; that heard that voice and wanted to submit to it, to please him and that found the most perfect joy possible in giving in to him.

As he hopped into the driver’s seat, he looked at me out of the corner of his eye and I smiled at him, very much aware of the warmth in my cheeks. He never spoke to me that way if there was any possibility of our being overheard and it seemed like he was checking in, making sure he hadn’t gone too far by going full Benedict on me in the very public car park.  

“I love you so fucking much.” I said.

“I love you too, in all your bullheaded and contrary glory.  It’s so much more satisfying making you surrender when I know it goes against your nature.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, “I really hope this isn’t a long drive or we might have to stop somewhere along the way.”

“Three hours, probably less,” he traced my bare arm with his fingertips, his no nonsense voice disarmingly at odds with his feather light touch. “I’m sure you can wait.”  

He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, turning west and settling comfortably into his seat.  I glanced at the nav system and saw that he hadn’t bothered to program it, obviously not wanting to give anything away yet.  I played with the music, trying to find something we could agree on and we talked as he drove, not about anything of importance, just regular day to day things that each of us had missed while he was away.  Our hands rested, fingers laced together, on the centre console and after a while I became aware of the way he kept rubbing the pad of his thumb over the ball of mine.

“Something’s bugging you.  What is it?”

“I’m taking my girl away for the weekend and I have all sorts of lovely things planned.  What could possibly be bugging me?”

“You’re going to make a hole in my hand with your thumb.  It’s the same as when you do that thing where you rub your palms on your legs.  You’re nervous.”

He glanced at me, “I thought I was the one who read you?”

“My face gives me away, at least to you.” I said with a smile, “And you’re a better actor than I am but you do have a ‘tell’.  More than one and you don’t even realize you’re doing them.”

“But you can see them?”

“Absolutely and it’s your own fault.”

“How is it my fault?”

“Partly because you usually tell me the truth and partly because of ‘Benedict’.  Being with you when you’re like that has taught me to watch for your cues, to read your body and your face.  I see things I might not have otherwise.”

“Such as?”

“I’m not telling you.  If I do, you’ll try to hide them so I won’t worry about you.  I know you’re anxious about something because I know you.” I shifted in my seat to look at him, “You’re my Ben and I know you.”

Grinning, he shook his head, “When you put it like that, how can I deny it?”

“I don’t think you can.”

“I did something this week that I think is going to piss you off,” he sighed, “And I wasn’t going to bring it up until after the weekend.”

“It’s big enough to ruin the weekend?”

“I’m not sure; maybe.”

“Great.  Well, you’ve already said this much, you may as well just tell me the rest.”

“You know I did a couple of interviews this week, about the film?”

“Mm hmm.”  

“I talked about you in one of them.” His hand tightened on mine like he thought I was going to pull away.

“I see.  What did you say?”      

“In my defense, you know I hadn’t been sleeping and it was late, after I’d been on set all day.  I met the guy in the lounge at the hotel and we had a couple of drinks.  He was asking about my schedule and we were talking about how busy I’ve been and how much I’ve been travelling.  I started talking about the film and how good it felt to be working at home again.”

“So far, so good.”

“Then he asked about the play and what I was most looking forward to over the next couple of months,” he took a breath and the rest came quickly, “and I said, waking up in my own bed with you in my arms.”

He wouldn’t look at me and I watched his face, wondering if that was all he’d said or if there was more.

“I’m sure that’s not what he was expecting at all.” I said, finally.

“It wasn’t what I was expecting either,” he said gloomily, “I didn’t even realize what I was saying until it was too late and I saw Louise shaking her head at me.”

“And by then he was all over it.”

 “Yeah.  I mean, all the press has really known about you so far is your name.  But we’d just been to the premiere, and the pictures were out, so of course he was.” 

“And then you told him what exactly?”

He stared straight ahead at the road, biting the inside of his cheek.

“I told him I was in love.”

“And?”

“And that’s it.  I said I was in love with you and that was all I was going to say about it and when he tried again, Louise jumped in and told him to move on or the interview was over.  How angry are you?”

“When’s the piece coming out?”

“This weekend.”

“I’m not angry.”

Startled, he glanced at me.

“You’re not?”

“No, not even a little bit, because you’re here.  If you’d done that while you were away and I was on my own to handle the shit storm that’s going to come down when that article comes out - people following me to work again or worse, then maybe I’d be angry.  But you’re home and we’re together so I’ll be fine.  I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Yes, I absolutely will, of course I will.”

He brought my hand up, kissing it several times and I started laughing.

“You were that worried?” I asked, “I had no idea I was so scary.”

Smiling briefly he said, “You’re not scary; it’s just that I’ve been so careful up ‘til now.  I promised you months ago that I’d shield you from the worst of it so you wouldn’t have to change your life and start looking over your shoulder again like in the beginning.  I swear, I wouldn’t have said a word if I hadn’t been so fucking tired.”

“Actually Ben, I think it’s sweet that when your guard was down and you were asked the best thing about being home, I was the first thing that popped into your head.  How could I get mad about that?”  

“Fuck, am I ever glad to have gotten that off my chest.”

“To me or to the reporter?” I asked, shooting him a look.

“To you mostly.  But since you’re not angry about it, I’ll admit, it’s nice to have said it out loud.”

I settled happily back into my seat and looked out the window, watching the landscape slip past.  Ben’s last day of shooting was Wednesday, so I’d have a couple of days at home without him, but I knew he wouldn’t let me feel alone or as though I had to handle any fallout by myself.  And I’d meant what I said; it felt wonderful to know that he was thinking about me even when he was supposed to be working.

He drove on for about an hour and then we stopped to get petrol and buy a couple of bottles of water.  At the next exit, he changed lanes and I looked up at the sign.

“We’re going to Wales?”

“Yup.”

“Still not telling me anything?”

“Nope.”

I took my seatbelt off, climbed into the back and dug my book out of my overnight bag.  I slid back into my seat and tried to read in between watching for more road signs and clues to where he was taking me.  I was fidgety and excited and Ben couldn’t have been more peaceful, driving with one hand on the wheel and humming along to the music.  It was really annoying.  At a sign with a bunch of names that I probably couldn’t have pronounced with a gun to my head, he exited the parkway, turning south.

The road narrowed to two lanes and suddenly, we were in farmland with old tumbled down stone buildings and rock walls that looked like they’d been there forever.  Everywhere I looked it was green, fields full of cows and sheep off in the distance and as he slowed down and moved over to pass a row of girls on ponies, I tried to just relax and admire the scenery.

“Are you taking me to a B&B on a farm or something?”

“Not even close.”

“Would you tell me if you were?”

“No.” He grinned.

We slowed, driving through little villages, sometimes no more than a couple of houses and maybe a pub or a post office and a little while later, Ben opened his window and I caught a whiff of salt air.  I squinted at him, trying to make him tell me something, anything about where we were going but he was enjoying himself too much to crack now after managing to keep the secret this long and soon, we were driving along with the grey sea on our right.

“What does that sign say?” he suddenly asked.

I glanced over, “It says Trac Circuit.  There’s a racetrack out here?  We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“Look,” he said, pointing to the other side of the road.

“What’s the Anglesey Circuit?” I asked as we whizzed past the sign.

“It’s where you and I are spending the day tomorrow, racing motorcycles around at high speed.”

“Pull over.”

“Why?”

“Pull over, right now.” I insisted.

He moved to the shoulder and stopped.  I unbuckled my seatbelt, leaned across the console and kissed him hugely, nearly falling into his lap.  I sat back, breathless and looked into his happily sparkling eyes.

“You are amazing.  This is the best birthday I’ve had since I turned seven and I actually got a pony!” 

He cracked up and kissed me again, pulled my seatbelt across me to do it back up and steered out onto the road.  As we drove, he told me he’d found a little cottage right on the sea for us to stay in and that first thing in the morning, we’d go to the racetrack where we’d meet the man from the motorcycle rental company.

“What kind of bikes?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, not one of the rental companies near here had a Ducati, so you’re stuck with a BMW I’m afraid.”

“Oh, well now I’m not sure I even want to go.”

“After I managed to keep this a secret for so long you’ll go even if the only thing they have for you to ride is a tricycle.”

Less than half an hour later, he turned off the main road and followed a narrow track along the sea.  There were cottages of varying sizes and levels of repair dotted along the road and he slowed further, squinting at the numbers before turning and parking at the back of a lovely little building, all pale silvery wood with a walkway leading to the front.

“Go on,” he said, “the keys are in a lock box at the door and the code is 327.  I’ll bring our things in.”

I hopped out and ran up the wooden walk which led to a deck overlooking the beach.  I leaned over the railing and could see steps leading down to the sand, less than 50 metres below.  I went to the box at the door, punched in the code to retrieve the keys and unlocked the French doors.  It was one large room, kitchen and dining table on the left and a short hallway that led to the bathroom.  On my right was a little sitting area surrounded by huge windows that let in the light and in the centre of the room, facing the view, a four poster bed with a blindingly white comforter and about twenty big, fat pillows.  Ben came around the corner, laden with bags.

“Will it do?”

“I think I might just be able to stand it for 2 nights.”

He put the bags down and led me back out to the deck.

“See that?” He asked, pointing at what looked like a trap door.

I nodded and he bent down, lifting the lid and a huge cloud of steam rose into the air.

“Japanese hot tub.” He announced as proudly as if he’d built it himself.

It was only large enough for two people, a deep wooden tub, like a barrel with a seat in it and because it was set down into the deck, completely private.

“So,” he said, “I’m afraid we have to be at the track by 7:00 tomorrow morning to meet the man with the motorcycles before the safety briefing.  I thought maybe supper and some wine?  Then we could have a soak before bed.”

I put my arms around his waist and congratulated him on planning a perfect weekend and then we just stood in the early evening sun and kissed.  We kissed for long enough that I suggested skipping supper but he wouldn’t hear of it, since the box he’d been so mysterious about contained food that the hotel in Bradford had put together for him.  He went to get the box from the car while I moved our bags and unpacked our bathroom things.  When I joined him in the kitchen, he passed me a glass of wine.

“What can I do to help?” I asked, surveying the containers he’d placed on the counter.

“You can either keep me company or go sit outside and catch the last of the sun while I cook for you.”

“Are you sure?  I don’t mind helping.”

“But I don’t want you to; you take care of the house when I’m away, you do most of the cooking, you’ve taken on more than I could ever have expected.” He stepped forward and brushed my hair back over my ears, “I want to spend the weekend taking care of you, in every way.”

“Every way?”

“Yes.  Whatever you need, whatever you want, all you have to do is say.”

I grinned, “Then why did you argue when I wanted to skip supper?”

“Don’t nitpick, we’re starting now.  Besides, I’m starving and I need to keep my strength up.”

“Alright, you cook and I’m going to sit in the sun and make a list.  A long, detailed list.”

I took my glass of wine and went back outside, leaning on the railing again and breathing in the clean, salty air as the sun moved down toward the horizon.  The beach wasn’t busy, but a few people were walking on the sand and a pair of dogs romped in the waves and chased a ball.  I could hear Ben clattering around in the kitchen and occasionally talking to himself and then I heard him swear.  I stuck my head in the door.

“What happened?”

“Never mind, it’s all under control.  Go away and stop bothering me.”

“I need a refill,” I said putting my glass on the counter and going to find my book and a sweater, “if you wouldn’t mind.”

I grabbed my glass on my way back outside and sat, putting my feet up and reading while he cooked for me.  It was getting too dark to read by the time he called me and when I went inside, he switched the lights off, leaving us in candlelight.  There were candles on every surface and as he pulled my chair out for me to sit, I told him how much I appreciated what he had done.

“It’s beautiful Ben.  Thank you.”

“You’re beautiful and you’re welcome.”

He brought our plates to the table and presented them with a flourish.

“Salmon glazed with whiskey and honey and roasted vegetables.”

“Damn, this looks almost good enough to eat.”

“To you,” he said, raising his glass, “even if you are awful.”

“Sorry.  Two glasses of wine on an empty stomach.”

“Right, like that’s the only reason you say things like that.”

We clinked our glasses together and sipped, grinning at each other over the table.  The food was lovely, the salmon perfectly cooked and I told him so.  He tried to brush the compliment off, but he was pleased that I was impressed and it showed on his face.  I realized he had actually been nervous about cooking for me and how serious he was about making the weekend perfect.  After we’d eaten, he wouldn’t even let me clear my own plate, instead sending me off to get undressed.

“I’ll meet you outside in 5 minutes.” he said.

I went into the bathroom and clipped my hair up off my neck, got undressed and wrapped myself in one of the big fluffy towels, grabbing an extra one for him.  I tiptoed back into the main room and looked outside.  Ben had lit more candles around the edge of the tub and was standing with his back to me, looking up at the sky and unbuttoning his shirt.  I went to my purse and dug around until I found what I was looking for, a little surprise I’d picked up for him, then I went outside.  There was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and a bowl of berries sitting next to it.  He looked up from the steaming water as he heard me approach.

“Join me,” he said, extending his hand to help me into the water.

I stepped down and sat at the edge of the tub, dropping my towel before sliding into the water with a hiss.

“Christ that’s hot.”

“I wonder if that might be why they call it a hot tub.”

“Fuck off you.” I said.

“So rude.  Come over here and let me kiss your filthy mouth.”

I slid next to him and he put his arm around me, his mouth on mine as I melted into his body and let my head fall back into the crook of his elbow.  He leaned in, kissing down my throat and I felt his other hand sliding up my belly to cup my breast, his thumb circling my nipple.  I opened my eyes, staring into his as he let his hand drop slowly away.

“Don’t stop now, things were just getting good.”

“I’ve already opened the wine, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait just a little longer.”

“I thought you said I could have anything I wanted.”

“I did and you can.  Right after dessert.”

“That’s not dessert Ben, those are berries.”

“There’s also chocolate, if you’d give me one goddamned minute.” He said, and I chuckled as he turned to pour the champagne.

He passed me a flute and said, “Open your mouth my love.”

As my lips parted, he slid a small square of chocolate between them and I held it on my tongue as it began to melt.  He pressed a blackberry against my mouth, crushing it between his fingers as I opened to accept it and he licked the juice where it dripped down my lip.  The sweet fragrant berry mixed with the chocolate in my mouth and I smiled, taking a sip of champagne.

“I've changed my mind.  This is my new favourite dessert.”

“I thought it might be.  Here,” he said, offering me another piece of chocolate, “shut up and take this.” 

I let him feed me, kissing and licking my mouth until I couldn’t stand his teasing anymore and I set my glass down and pushed him back, moving to sit on his lap, facing him.  I fed him berries and chocolate, kissing his lovely mouth between every bite, running my lips over his neck, sinking my teeth into him until he groaned, his hands cupping my ass and holding me to him.  Reaching into the towel I’d put beside the tub, I took his present, hid it and leaned back, taking his face in my hands, running my thumbs over his cheekbones.  I bent to kiss him and he suddenly jerked back.

“What the hell?”

I smiled and let him see the metal band I held between my teeth.  He frowned and when he reached up to take it, I pushed it into his fingers with my tongue.  He held the ring, a wide silver band with a narrow strip of black titanium banding either edge, staring at it for a long time before looking up into my face.

“What is this?” He asked quietly.

“Since I burned my hand in August you’ve been wearing my ring as a reminder of me.  But that ring was a gift from my parents and it means something different to me than it does to you.  I want you to have this, a memento from me that means something special to us both.  I’d like you to wear this for me,” I took the ring from his palm, “and to know every time you see it on your finger that I love you.  I love you in a way I didn’t even know was possible and wherever you are, no matter how long you’re away; I’ll always be there when you come home.” 

He raised his left hand and worked my silver band off his pinkie, holding the ring up so I could put it back on the ring finger of my right hand.  I took his hand in mine and slid his new silver band over the knuckle of his little finger and into place.  He looked at his finger, blinking rapidly and looked up at me again.

“I’ll never take it off.” 

One of the many things I loved about him was that his feelings were so close to the surface and right now, his eyes were sparkly with emotion.

“Soppy git.” I said.

“Soulless harpy.” He responded and he put his arms around me, lifting me up and stepping out of the tub.

He set me on my feet, passing me a towel and wrapping the other around his waist and we went inside, shutting the door behind us.  Most of the candles had burned down and the light was low but warm, turning our skin to gold. 

He reached for my towel, pulling it from me and began to dry my body, his hands moving gently, his lips following.  He stepped behind me, tongue and teeth sliding across my shoulders as he dried my back, dropping to his knees as the towel moved over my bum, down my legs.  His mouth skimmed over my ribs to my hip and my skin prickled as he nipped at the flesh, sucking it into his mouth and leaving a mark.  He turned me to face him, dropping the towel and reaching up, trailing his fingers down over my breasts, stroking my nipples as he pressed his face to my navel, gently but insistently pushing me back until I was leaning on the bed.

He watched my face as his kisses went down my belly to my legs and he reached around, fingers tickling the tender skin at the back of my knee when he lifted my leg, opening me to his gaze.  His breath was warm on my skin as he bent forward and let his mouth come to rest on my mound, not moving, breathing me in.  He looked up at me, waiting. 

I lifted a hand to run my fingers through his hair, “Just your mouth Ben.  Don’t use your hands.”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled and his tongue pushed, spread me open and began to move over my sensitive flesh.  I sighed at the heat of his mouth, sucking at me, pulling me in, his tongue dipping inside me and away then gently prodding at my clitoris, circling, soft touches then pressing hard and my hips rose.  I tightened my grip on his curls, pulling him closer and he drew my clit into his mouth, letting me feel his teeth for a second before his tongue was inside me again and he pushed his face into me, lapping, consuming me until I was moaning and I fell back on the bed, my legs dropping open.  I felt him rise up, one hand reaching for mine and the other smoothing over my belly, searching for my breast and catching my nipple in his fingers.  I clutched his hand hard in mine when his tongue came back to my clit and fluttered from side to side, dancing over the hardened bud.

“Yes, yes, oh yes, don’t stop, please, please…” I urged and then I couldn’t even speak as both his arms went around my hips and held me to his mouth, finishing me. 

My back arched, sharp pangs raced through me and I shrieked at the intensity of it.  I lay shaking, my toes curled and I groaned once, loudly. 

“Holy fuck.” I managed to gasp.

Ben chuckled, his head resting on my leg.  He stood and leaned over me, his hands on the bed at my waist.

“You are a wonder.  Every time I think I’ve seen everything you have to give, you manage to blow my mind again.”

“I didn’t do anything.” I protested.

“That’s what you think.  Jesus, when your body moves like that and, my god, the sounds you make; knowing I’m doing that to you?  The joy, the thrill that gives me…you have no idea.”

“Yes I do,” I said, smiling brightly, “I know exactly what you mean.”

I rolled over and he stood up as I untucked the sheets and crawled between them.

“Get in and I’ll show you.” I said.

He dropped his towel and got in next to me, his arm resting loosely over my waist, his mouth covering mine.  Our tongues slid together and tasting, smelling myself on him made me think of how it had felt to have him between my legs and I needed more.  His lips nibbled down my neck, lingering on my clavicle, my nipples hardening in anticipation.  My hand rested on the back of his neck, holding him to me as drew my flesh into his mouth, running his tongue over it.  As he leaned over me to move his mouth to the other breast, his cock pressed into my thigh and I rolled onto my side, reaching for him.  I grasped him lightly, running my fingers up and down his length then, when he started moving his hips, I gripped more firmly as he stroked into my hand and I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Can I be on top?” I asked him.

He rolled us over and threaded his fingers with mine as I sat up, wriggling on top of him until his shaft slipped between my swollen lips and I thrust my hips, grinding on his length, pushing my clit against the head of his cock until we were both sweaty and breathing hard.

“Come up here.” I said, pulling on his hands.

He sat up and I let go of his hands, running my fingertips over his chest and playing with his nipples until they stood hard.  I put my arms around his shoulders and pressed myself to his torso, my hips still moving, circling.  

I whispered into his ear, “Wrap your hand around your cock and hold it for me,” and I rose up onto my knees.

His breath was hot on my skin when he moaned in response, his hand going between us as he reached down and gripped low on his shaft, angling himself toward me.  I kept my eyes on his, dropping down and rubbing myself on the head of his penis until he tried to move closer to my entrance.  I lifted up and away.

“Not yet,” I shook my head slowly, “I’m going to take what I need first.  If you can be patient for me I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

“Take what you need,” he said, his eyes narrowed and dark, “I can wait.”

“We’ll see.” I challenged.

I kissed him hard, stroking his jaw and neck with my hands, my tongue deep in his mouth and I centred my clitoris over his cock, brushing it over the head again and again.  My clit was still sensitive and every touch of his flesh on mine was like a shock running through my belly.  I always loved the first moment he entered me, the smoothness; the heat, the fleeting twinge as he breached me and now I shifted my hips and slowly took the tip of his penis inside me, rose and sank down, then up again.  His breathing and soft groaning let me know that he was as turned on as I was so I did it again, once, twice more then I moved back to rub my clit along his shaft until I was biting my lip with pleasure.

I slid all the way up until he was at my opening and I pushed down, moaning in his ear as he disappeared inside me, filling me, stretching me tight around him and I nuzzled at his neck inhaling the scent of his skin, like a drug to me.  His hands went to my hips, ran down my legs and he grasped my ankles.

“I just can’t get you close enough; put your legs around me and hold on.”

I locked my ankles together behind his back and he held me, drawing his legs up, opening his knees and I dropped into his lap, gasping as his cock went deeper and I heard him swear under his breath.  We clung to each other, faces buried in each other’s necks as I rocked against him and it felt like we were touching everywhere as his big hands roamed over my back and down to my bum, pulling me to him.  I squeezed tightly with my inner muscles, pumping his thick shaft.

“Oh Christ, do that again.”

I rolled my hips in slow circles, pulsing around him, grinding my clit into his pubic bone, arching my back at the sound of his voice as he crooned my name.  I felt my orgasm building, almost there; flickering, teasing.

“Move with me, I want to feel you come inside me.”

His head dropped to suck at my breasts, sliding my nipples over his gorgeous, soft lips, biting lightly until I bucked into him then he leaned back and began to thrust.  My legs were locked behind him, his hands on my waist, lifting and dragging me down onto him as he drove his hardness deep into my body.  I let my head drop backward and as my hips tilted, his cock started to slide across the front wall of my pussy with long, slow strokes, my breath catching at the pressure.  My eyes flew open and I cried out as a rush of heat coursed through me.  I let my legs drop and I curved forward onto Ben’s chest, clinging to him, moaning while he held tightly to me, moving quickly now as he sought his climax.  I was still coming, my muscles in spasm.  He stiffened and I felt it as he poured himself into me with a harsh shout.

He kept moving, sliding in and out, slow and easy; his tongue in my mouth echoing the movement.  He finally stilled and raised his head to look at me.

“Is it possible to die of happiness?” I asked.

“I hope not, or you’re going to kill me.”

I giggled and brushed his sweaty curls off his forehead.

“Ben?”

“Yes my love?”

“Why do you get so worked up when I do this?” I asked, contracting my muscles around him and grinning when he took a sharp breath, “I do it because I like the way it feels when I grip you, when I can feel how big you are inside me, but why does it make you so crazy?”

“When you’re coming, those same muscles flutter and flex but it usually only lasts for seconds, maybe a little more if you have those wonderful aftershocks.  When you do it on purpose it feels similar but it lasts longer, so to me,” he smiled, “it’s as though you’re having the world’s longest orgasm.  And since there’s nothing I love more than satisfying you, that feeling of your body clenching around my cock is the best thing imaginable.”

“Oh my god.  Just when I think you’re already perfect, you get better.”

“Plus, it makes you tighter and that’s hot as hell.”

I started to laugh and he kissed me on the nose as he lifted me off his lap.

“I need to set the alarm, I’ll be right back.”

He turned on the lamp at the bedside and I watched him walk over to his coat and get his phone. 

“How long will you need to get ready in the morning?”

“Half an hour.  No, better make it 45 minutes, so we have time for coffee.”

He stood in the centre of the room, setting the time and then he went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water.  He returned to bed, blowing out the last of the candles on the way and passing me the glass, putting his phone on the nightstand.  He took the glass back, had a drink and got into bed.

“Come here my love; let me hold you so I can sleep.”

I snuggled up next to him with my head on his chest, his arms around me and we both slept straight through until the alarm went off. 

I stretched and opened my eyes.  Ben was on his side, leaning on his hand and looking at me.

“Happy Birthday my love.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m forty.” I frowned, “I feel old.”

He reached under the sheet and put his hand on my belly, running his fingers lightly over my skin.

“Don’t talk nonsense.  You feel the same to me as you did yesterday.”

“That isn’t what I meant and you know it.”

“I don’t care how old you are.  I won’t care when you’re twice this age and your hair’s turned white and you’re all wrinkly, I’ll still think you’re beautiful and I’ll still love you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.  Now go put on some moisturizer before your face falls apart.”

I pulled the pillow from behind my head and hit him with it then I got out of bed and went to the bathroom.  When I came back out Ben was pouring my coffee.  He went to brush his teeth and I opened the doors to the outside taking a look at the sky.  The sun was just coming up and the day promised to be bright and sunny.  I was thrilled that we’d gotten lucky with the weather.  Riding at high speed in the rain presents some interesting technical challenges, but it’s not nearly as much fun as riding fast on a dry track.  I went back inside and put on a tank top and a pair of leggings, then wriggled into my riding leathers, zipping them part way up and tying the arms around my waist for the time being so I wouldn’t get too hot.  I slipped my boots on; leaving them unbuckled for the same reason and got my coffee.

I was standing on the deck braiding my hair and Ben joined me, setting his cup on the railing next to mine and hugging me from behind as I twisted the elastic to secure my hair.  I picked up my cup, turned and looked him up and down, taking in the sight of him in head to toe riding gear. 

“Is there any possible way we can have sex while you’re wearing those?” I pointed to his leather pants, “because…damn.”

Grinning he said, “If you wanted to, I’m sure we could figure out a way but we’ll have to find out later because we need to get going.”

We finished our coffee and I carried the cups inside while Ben brought in the ice bucket and glasses we’d left outside the night before.  We gathered up the rest of our gear - helmets, gloves and locked up.  Our heavy boots clomped loudly on the wooden walkway as we made our way around the side of the house to the car.  Ben wanted to drive and with a roll of my eyes, I handed him my keys.

We drove back up the road to the turn off and down a long drive to the car park.  We were early and there were only a couple of other vehicles already there.  He cut the engine and got out, walking around to my side and opening my door.

“The man from the rentals company said he’d meet us here by the front gate and we’ll drive down to the garage with him to unload.”

I grabbed our helmets from the back seat, stuffing our gloves inside and I passed them to Ben and got out, pulling my back pack on and climbing up to sit on the hood of the Range Rover with my feet on the bumper.

“What?” I asked, seeing his look of disapproval as he came around to stand in front of me, setting the helmets on the ground.

“Nothing.  It’s just, you know, be careful of the paint.”

“Whose car is this?”  I asked sweetly.

“It’s yours.”

“And am I an idiot?  The sort of tit who might sit on her brand new car while wearing jeans with rivets on the pockets or something?  Or am I a perfectly sensible but short person who wants to be able to see and is wearing completely smooth leather pants?”

“Less of the idiot;” he said a bit sheepishly, “more of the other thing.”

“Got it in one.  Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use than opening it and letting stupid things come out?”

He stepped between my legs and his hands went behind me to grip my ass while he kissed me.  I ran my fingers through his hair and nipped his lower lip.  He pulled back with a grin.

“Cut it out.  This gear is very snug and leaves nothing to the imagination.”

“I can see that,” I said and pointed to the main drive, “And I can also see a lorry with motorcycle rental printed on it.  Is that ours?”

Ben looked over and waved at the man who had just gotten out of the cab of the truck.  He helped me hop down and we picked up our helmets, walking over to meet the driver.

“Hi, I’m Ben and this is Kai.  Are you Jason?”

“That’s me” he said, shaking our hands in turn “good to meet you.  If you want to hop in, I’ll take you down to the garage and we can unload and I’ll take you through what you need to know.”

Driving down to the trackside garage, Jason filled us in on what to expect.  The garage berths were available on a first come first served basis, but he assured us we were there in plenty of time, that’s why he like to meet his clients so early.  He pulled in behind a long building and we all got out and went around to the back of the lorry where he lowered a ramp and we got our first look at the bikes we’d be riding. 

“BMW S1000RR, last year’s model.  Either of you ever ridden one of these?”

We both shook our heads and Jason continued, “You’re in for a treat, they’re fast and have great handling.  There’s a track mode that adjusts the ABS and suspension so you should have some fun playing with that.”

We walked up the ramp and helped Jason undo the straps that secured the motorcycles to the walls. 

“What’s the weight on this?” I asked.

“The tank’s empty for transport, so about 180 kilos, once the tank is full, just over 200.”

“And top speed?”

“On a straight track, around 250 kilometres an hour, but Anglesey’s so curvy you won’t make anything near that kind of speed; it’ll just feel like you are.  Go ahead and roll it down the ramp.”

I rolled the bike down to the tarmac and waited while Ben brought down the other and Jason who was short but built like a fireplug followed, carrying a large gas can in either hand as though they weighed nothing.  We followed him around the corner and into the first two berths at the end of the building.

“I’ll just go grab the paperwork.  You two go ahead and climb on, get a feel for them.” He nodded at me, “I’ll bring the toolbox.  I might need to change your foot pegs, bring them up a little.”

He walked away and I swung my leg over the seat and sat up.  The bike wasn’t huge and while I couldn’t put my feet flat on the ground, I could balance comfortably on my toes.  I wiggled from side to side while holding onto the wall then lifted my feet to the pegs.  If I were going to be riding on the street for any length of time, I’d definitely have needed to move them or I’d probably get cramps in my thighs from the angle of my legs.

“Ben, can you come and hold my bike for a minute?”

He slid off his motorcycle and stood in front of me, gripped the tire between his knees and held onto the front fairing.  I bent low over the handlebars, simulating the position I’d be in while on the track.  Leaning that far forward with my belly almost on the tank, the pegs were a perfect fit.  Jason came around the corner and smiled when he saw me.

“Well?”

“Since this is the way I plan to be riding, I don’t think you need to bother moving the pegs.”

“He said when he booked the bikes that you were an experienced rider.  Ever ridden a track before?”

“I have, yeah, but not for a while.  I just go as fast as possible and hope for the best, right?”

“Jesus Christ,” Ben muttered, “I’m starting to think this may have been a mistake.”

“You can do what you like, within reason, but not until you’ve signed this.” Jason said with a grin, holding up the rental agreements.

As he talked us through the documents more riders started to arrive, the sound of motorcycles echoing through the open garage as people chose their spaces and began their preparations.  After we’d signed the forms, Jason took us through the bike specifications and gave us a few pointers, mainly about playing with the suspension once we’d had a chance get a feel for the bikes.  He filled the fuel tanks on both bikes and said he’d be sticking around, at least for a while, to make sure everything was running smoothly.

People were getting cups of coffee and heading over to the briefing area, so we did the same.  The man from the company that ran the track days introduced himself and began his spiel, thoroughly covering rules, safety tips and track etiquette as well as explaining how the lap timing was done.  After that, the track officials began to circulate among us, asking questions about our riding experience.  We were broken down into 3 groups, novice, intermediate and fast and given wristbands to show we’d attended the briefing and a sticker for the front of our bike to show which group we were in.

I found Ben talking with another rider at the edge of the crowd and joined them.

“Let me see your fast group sticker.” He said.

I held it up.

“You were right.” said the other man, “I’m not sure how I’d feel about that if it was my wife.”

“I beg your pardon?” I asked, rather sharply.

He and Ben both held up intermediate group stickers.

“Oh.  How did that happen?”

“This is Peter.  We’ve been riding for about the same length of time, but neither of us has ever raced on a track before.” Ben explained.

“At least if we’re in different groups, we can watch each other’s rounds.” I said.

He threw his arm around my shoulder and said to Peter, “She makes a good point.  If we were in the same group, all I’d see was her dust anyway.”

We said goodbye and headed back to the garage to finish getting ready.  Before too long we heard an announcement calling the groups to gather in the starting area.  Each group of bikes had to attend a sound check because there were noise bylaws in effect.  After a few last minute bits of advice from Jason, Ben and I made our way down to the starting area.  After the checks were complete, Ben’s group was the first to head to the track.

I stood with him while he sat on his motorcycle waiting for his group to assemble and I passed him his gloves.

“Are you nervous?” I asked.

He nodded.

“My group goes right after yours, but I’ll watch as much of your run as I can, alright?  You’ll be fine, relax and have fun.  It’s not a race; it’s just about you and the bike.”

He nodded again and his eyes creased as he smiled at me.  I reached up and smacked the top of his helmet twice for luck then I ran over to the viewing area where I’d be able to see the riders coming out of the first turn and heading into the next large banking one.  For our first rounds, each group would be doing three sighting laps following a lead bike to get to know the track and then we’d be let loose.

I stood listening for the approaching horde and made conversation with a couple of other people in the viewing area.  There were two women who were particularly chatty and we introduced ourselves.   Cathy’s husband was in Ben’s group and Stephanie’s was in mine.  It was clear from the beginning that they’d been to many of these track days before and I asked if they still worried when their husbands were riding.

“Is this your first time?” Stephanie asked.

“It’s not my first time riding at one, but it’s the first time my boyfriend’s done it and suddenly my palms are sweaty.”

“I used to be terrified when we came to these things, but not anymore.” She said kindly, “I think he’s safer on the track than he is on the open road with all the traffic.  At least here, everyone knows the rules and you don’t have to be worried about being overtaken by a lorry on a corner.”

I thanked her, appreciating her kindness and common sense and suddenly the group was approaching.  The first three laps were nothing exciting to watch as they followed the lead bike but after that, they rapidly spread out as the faster riders pulled away from the group.  The sessions were only twenty minutes long so I didn’t know how many of Ben’s passes I’d see.  It depended how fast he was going because I had to be back at the staging area in time to get ready for my heat.

On the first open lap, I watched for Ben and saw him come out of the first turn a little cautiously.  He hit the straightaway leading to the bank turn and I heard him accelerating then as he got closer, slow again and he cut in, leaning into the turn.  He flew out the other side heading into the next straight and I rapidly lost sight of him.  On his next lap, there were only six riders ahead of him and he was already looking more confident as he flew through the turn and headed toward us.  As he came out the other side of the long banking turn, he passed the rider in front of him and disappeared.  I was smiling like a fool.

“You’re riding in the fast group, yeah?” Stephanie asked.

I nodded and she tapped her watch.

“Thanks,” I said, running down the steps, “I’ll see you in a little while.”

I put my helmet and gloves on, fired up the bike and rode out toward the starting line.  I stayed off to one side, near the back of the group so I could see when Ben came in.  Three riders rode past me coming down the pit lane, Ben the fourth.  He saw me and pulled in, his front tire to my back one and he flipped his visor up, his eyes bright with excitement.  With the noise of all the engines, it was nearly impossible to make ourselves heard but he leaned forward and rested his helmet against mine.

“How’s the bike?” I shouted.

“Smooth, and very, very fast,” he shouted back, “have fun and BE SAFE.”

I nodded, tapped my visor down over my face and rode away.  My group followed the track official down the pit lane and I put Ben from my mind and focussed on getting to know the bike and memorizing the track.  There’s no passing allowed in the sighting rounds so I let myself drop back and catch up a few times, wanting to get a feel for the throttle and brakes.  I counted the turns, looking forward to opening up on the extended s-curve section and the straightaway that led from it to the tight hairpin where I could really have some fun.  At the end of the third lap, the lead bike headed into the pit and we got the green flag, signalling we were free to go.

I watched the riders in front of me pull away and I began to accelerate.  I wasn’t in a huge rush.  I wanted to give the field time to spread out before I got going too quickly.  I zipped through the first turn and cruised around the wide bank before I was in the clear and I twisted the throttle.  I loved my Ducati, but the BMW was next level fast.  I bent low, ratcheting through the gears as I headed into the long open section with only one easy turn.  I passed two other bikes before I geared down and flew into the beginning of the s-curve.  I shifted my weight, let my knee drop and laid the bike nearly on its side as I twisted through each curve of the serpentine.  As soon as I was clear of the last corner, I dropped the hammer, flying down toward the hairpin, passing another bike and then I was coming up the other side, back to the start of the track.  With each lap, I went a little faster, lost a little caution and passed more riders.  I had no idea how fast I was going since I’d put a piece of tape over the speedometer before leaving the garage, not wanting to be distracted from the track for even a moment at those speeds.  All too soon, it felt to me, the chequered flag was waved signalling the last lap and I slowed to let the engine cool for a lap before making my way back to the garage.  I left the bike running and got off, removing my helmet and gloves.  Jason from the rental company appeared beside the stall.

“So, what do you think?”

“That’s a glorious fucking machine!”

“Go get yourself something to drink,” he laughed, “I’ll shut the bike down for you in a couple of minutes.”

I started walking over to the refreshment tent and saw Ben coming toward me with a bottle of water in each hand.  I broke into a run and didn’t slow when I got to him, jumping up and wrapping my legs around him as he caught me with a grunt.  We grinned at each other.

“Enjoy yourself?” He asked, continuing to walk back to the garage with me clinging to him.

“I really, really did.”

“You scared the shit out of me on your third lap when you passed coming out of the bank.”

“Good thing you couldn’t see the hairpin from where you were then.”

“Do I even want to know?”

I let go of him and landed on my feet, taking the bottle of water he offered.  Jason had looked up as we came back to the garage and now he offered to fill Ben in on what he’d missed.

“I was watching the hairpin from behind the paddocks.  Would you like to hear how she passed two bikes at once coming out of the turn?”

“Fuck no.  I’m proud of your riding and I’m impressed,” he said to me, “but the hair on the back of my neck is standing up just thinking about that.”

“I saw an opening and I took it, but I wasn’t being reckless.” I assured him.

“You looked perfectly safe and in control to me,” Jason agreed, “and I should know.”

“See?  Maybe you should go sit with Jason for the next round.”

“I may.  I can always close my eyes.”

The novice group was nearly finished and Ben got ready and headed back out onto the track.  I watched again from the same platform, chatting with my new acquaintances during the laps until one of them mentioned she was sure she’d seen Benedict Cumberbatch down in the pit area.  I was rooted in my seat as they began talking about him, not sure if I should say something before one of them said anything I didn’t want to hear, or keep my mouth shut and just leave.

“Do you really think it was him?  I remember reading somewhere that he rides a motorbike.” said Cathy.

“I’m almost sure,” Stephanie answered, “I only saw him for a second from the side and then he turned away.”

“Do you think he’s good looking?  I can never decide.  Sometimes he looks great but other times I think he looks sort of like an alien.”

I bit my cheek to stop myself from laughing.

“Ooh, I think he’s gorgeous.  It’s the Sherlock hair that does it for me.”

I stood up and said, “Yeah, me too.” then waved good bye and went to get ready for my next run.

We each rode a total of three heats before taking a break for lunch, then three more sessions in the afternoon.  It was a great day, the weather held; the track conditions were fast and perfect and there were only a couple of minor incidents with no major injuries to any of the riders.  Track riding is very different from road riding, more intense, and by the end of the day, my shoulders and back were getting sore and when I climbed off the bike for the final time, I could tell my legs would be stiff in the morning.

We helped Jason load the bikes and thanked him for all his help as he dropped us at the main gate by the carpark.  I slipped my arm around Ben’s waist as we walked back to the car and he leaned over, planting a kiss on the top of my head.  I smiled up at him and as I looked away, I saw Stephanie and Cathy, my friends from the viewing stands.  Cathy was standing at the back of her car, frozen in the act of putting her picnic basket in the boot.

I waved cheerfully and her hand came up slowly, returning the gesture as she stared.

“Who’s that?” Ben asked.

“I was sitting with them while I watched you ride.  One of them said some very sensible things so I wouldn’t worry about you while you were on the track.  And she likes your Sherlock hair.”

He smiled, waved to them and pressed the button to unlock the car.  I got in; reaching for my seatbelt and Stephanie appeared at my door.

“Hello again.”

“Hi.  Ben, this is Stephanie, we met in the stands.”  I introduced them and Ben leaned over and shook her hand.

“Kai said you were very kind when she was nervous about watching me ride.”

She smiled shyly, “Look, a few of us are meeting at the pub up the road for a pint.  I wondered if you might like to join us.”

I turned to Ben and he glanced at his watch, “We have to be back at the cottage by half past seven, but we have time for a drink.”

She gave us directions to the pub and went back to her car.  I shut my door and asked Ben why we had to be at the cottage at a specific time.

“I didn’t think either of us would feel much like cooking after today, so I’ve arranged for supper to be delivered.”

“You really have thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“I hope so,” he said, starting the car, “I meant it when I said I wanted to make this weekend perfect for you.”

“You’ve succeeded.  If we were leaving for home right now, I couldn’t ask for another thing.”

“Is that right?” he asked, “In that case, maybe I’ll make a few demands of my own.”

I was about to make a light hearted comment when I looked over and caught his eye.  He held my gaze and I felt my face growing warm, a flutter of excitement running through my belly.

“Maybe we should skip the pub?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He said with a wicked grin, putting the car into gear, “Let’s go have a drink with your friends and while we’re there you can think some more about your question from this morning.  Can we have sex while I’m wearing these?” He tapped his leather clad leg.

“You’re evil.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

The lot at the pub was nearly full and if we hadn’t been meeting people there, we wouldn’t have gotten a table.  The place was packed with people in riding gear, high on adrenaline and dissecting the details of their best laps.  We joined the ladies from the stands and met their husbands and Ben went up the bar and bought a round for the table.  Besides Ben, none of my friends in the UK rode a motorcycle and it was fun to talk about our experiences today with other people who could relate. 

Under the table, Ben’s hand sat firmly on my thigh, reminding me of what he’d said in the car.  We finished our drinks and I was ready to go, but he cheerfully got up and went back to the bar for another round.  I finished my second drink with almost indecent haste and pointed out to Ben that we really did need to leave.  We said our goodbyes, thanking them for inviting us and headed for the car.

“You were certainly in a hurry to get out of there.” He said.

“Shut up and drive.” I said, unzipping my riding leathers and pulling the sleeves off.

He smiled to himself.

Back at the cottage, he grabbed my hand, pulling me with him as he ran up the walkway.  The buckles on my boots were undone and the second time I tripped over my own feet, he swung around, hoisting me over his shoulder.  He carried me into the house and straight to the bathroom, yanking my boots off and chucking them behind us as he went.  He set me down, turning the shower on to warm up.

“Clothes off,” he said, “we have fifteen minutes.”

“Nice; very romantic.” I answered with my hands on my hips.

“Romance?  Short version, I love you.” He said, peeling off the top of his riding gear, “Now get undressed and get in the shower; I’m going screw you up against the wall.”

“You’re such a pig.” I said with a laugh.

“Is that a no?”

“Of course not.”

Our leathers lay in a heap on the floor and we both stepped under the water.  He blocked the spray with his back, taking me in his arms and kissing me fiercely, his aggression as ever, setting me alight.  He pushed me against the wall, grinding against me and I dug my fingers into his back.

“Turn around.” He growled.

Facing the wall, I started to raise my hands to brace myself but he reached up, taking my wrists and bringing my arms together in the small of my back.  Looking over my shoulder, recognizing the icy glint in his eyes as he stared back at me, I folded my fingers together, my heart racing.  He closed his big hand around mine, securing me in his grip.  His other hand reached between my legs, fingers moving over my wet folds, making sure I was ready for him.  My upper body was pressed to the tiles, not yet warmed by the water and I shivered, my nipples standing high from the cold and from excitement as Benedict spread me open with his fingers.  He shoved inside me, plunging deep with the first thrust and I cried out, overwhelmed by lust and the feeling of possession.  He didn’t wait for me to adjust to his size, moving with me, fucking me with long, hard strokes, grunting as his hips slapped against my skin over and over.

“Spank me.”

His motion hitched as my demand took him off guard but he recovered quickly, his hand leaving my hip to smooth across my ass and then smacking sharply onto my wet skin, twice, then twice more. 

“Again, please Benedict.”

“Harder?”

“Yes everything, all of it, harder.” I urged.

He pushed my legs further apart, bending his knees and slamming his cock into me so my heels lifted with every stroke.  I dug my fingernails into my palms, getting more and more excited, aroused as the flat of his hand came down on my ass in time with his rough thrusting.  

I couldn’t stop moaning, helpless in his hands, my legs shaking with the effort of staying on my feet.  Suddenly, he let go of my hands and his arms were around me, pulling me to him as he came; his groans of release rumbling through us both.  His hand came up to cup my cheek, turning my face so he could kiss me.

“My girl, my perfect, perfect girl…” he whispered against my lips.

I swallowed hard, trying to catch my breath as we kissed.  My fingers slid down my belly and he put his hand over mine to stop me.

“No,” he said quietly, “I want you to wait.”

I turned to him, “I thought this weekend I was supposed to get everything I wanted.”

“And you will, but not yet.”

I put my arms around his neck and I stood on my toes to kiss him again, pressing my breasts to his chest, “It seems to me someone here is getting what they want.”

“What I really want is for you to be thinking about this moment for the rest of the night.  Thinking about how close you are right now, how all you need is the lightest touch of your hand, you are _so_ close.  I’m going to bring you right to that edge again,” he crowded me against the back wall, his hands holding my hips, “but I won’t let you fall.  And then I’ll do it again.  I’ll do it until you’re so desperate to come that you beg me for it.  And then,” he smiled, “I am going to give you an orgasm you’ll never forget.”  

Over the sound of the water and my heart pounding in my ears, I heard the doorbell ring. 

“Go answer the door,” my voice was husky, strained, “I still need to wash my hair.”

He stepped from the shower, opening the bathroom door and shouting, “One minute, I’ll be right there!”

He quickly toweled off and pulled his robe on.  He opened the door and stopped, coming back and looking around the shower curtain at me.

“And Kai?  In case I wasn’t clear, no finishing what I started this time.  I mean it.”      

He went to answer the door while I quickly washed my hair.  I was standing in front of the mirror blow drying, a towel tied around me when he came back.  He shut the door behind him and got dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans and a light sweater.  He leaned on the counter and watched me.

“When you’re done, put this on and nothing else.” He said; passing me the silver-grey chemise I’d worn on our last night at the hotel.

“While the caterers are here?  I don’t think so; I may as well be naked wearing that.” I said, pushing his hand away.

He caught my hand in his and his face hardened.

“How unfortunate for you then that you’re not in charge here.”

I looked at his hand, where it grasped mine then up, into his eyes.  They sparkled, pale and cool as he looked back at me.

 “I’m not asking you Kai, I’m telling you.”

I frowned, wondering what he was thinking.  He had to know I’d be uncomfortable wearing just the chemise in front of anyone but him. 

I stared at him a moment longer and he reached for me, taking my nipple between his thumb and finger and squeezing.

“Do it.” he said softly.  

I broke eye contact, breathing hard and took the chemise.  He nodded once and left the bathroom.  I stalled for time, rubbing moisturizer into my skin and finally pulling the delicate shift over my head.  I couldn’t figure out what was going on in his head.  Just days ago he’d told me that he couldn’t imagine sharing me with anyone else and now, he wanted to parade me, practically nude, in front of a total stranger. 

‘Fuck it’ I thought; if he wanted to play games, I was going to hold my head high and call his bluff.  I wiped the steam from the mirror and looked at myself, the satin clinging to my curves, my nipples standing high under the fabric.  I cursed him for what he was about to make me do, but I’d do it.  I told myself I was doing it to prove a point but I knew in my heart I was doing it as much because he wanted me to.  I turned the doorknob, taking a breath before stepping out into the hallway.

He was standing outside the door with his plaid robe in his hands.  He put it around my shoulders, covering me.

“I knew you’d do it.” He said quietly, his hands on my waist.

I dug my fingers into his forearms and whispered angrily, “What the hell were you trying to prove?”

“That no matter what I ask of you, you’re safe with me.” He said, and there was no apology in his voice, he was simply stating a fact.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know I trust you.”  I was not happy with him.

“I  know you do.  But do  you?  I mean, did you really know, until just now?" 

I was speechless and he took advantage of my silence by continuing, "Besides, what good is having boundaries if you don’t press them?” 

I dragged him backward into the bathroom, kicking the door closed behind us.

“That’s the first time you’ve asked me to do something I didn’t want to do and you weren’t hearing me.  What happens when it’s just you and me is one thing, but don’t you ever, ever involve someone else.  Don’t you ever do that to me again.  I actually thought you were going to display me in front of another person.  You asked me once if I did things I didn’t enjoy just to make you happy and at the time my answer was no, but this time?  I really didn’t want to do it.”

I expected him to be taken aback by my anger and was stunned when he smiled at me, his cold, hard, devastating Benedict smile.

“I know.  And yet, you came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but what I told you to wear.  Why is that Kai?” he asked, his fingers twining in my hair as he stepped close to me.

I thought hard, trying to come up with a plausible answer as I heard the sound of movement in the kitchen and music playing in the background.  He spoke before I did.

“It’s because you know that I’d never force you to do anything you don’t actually want.  I’d never humiliate you nor would I do anything that would make you feel you were anything less than my own brave and beautiful girl.  I’ve pushed you and I’m going to keep doing it because I also know you love it as much as I do; you love the thrill, the danger and even the fear.” He was leaning in closer, his lips nearly touching mine as he spoke, his voice deep, low, “I’m going to keep pushing harder because I know it’s what you want.  You love it and you love me for making you do it.”

I had been furious with him, confused as to why he would want anyone else to see me half naked and exposed but as he explained and I understood what his true motivation was, his words rang true.  I lifted my hand and rested my fingers on his cheek; let my thumb drift across his mouth.

“You’re right; I do love it and you.  And I love that you know me so well but I’m still mad at you.”

“Good.  I should think I’ll enjoy making you give in to me even more, knowing you’re angry.”

“Jesus, it’s fucking impossible to win with you.” I said, exasperated.

“Don’t give up so easily or you’ll force me to do something else to piss you off after supper.” 

I couldn’t help laughing, “Asshole.”

 He hugged me and we went out to sit at the table.  He poured me a glass of wine, introduced me to the caterers and they promised they’d have the food ready and be out of our way shortly.  Ben and I talked quietly until our first course was ready.  The head chef placed two plates of seared tuna in front of us, told us the main course was plated and in the oven and dessert was on the counter.  We were instructed to leave all the dishes on the patio in the box they provided and they’d be back the next day to pick it all up, then they were gone and we were alone.

We finished the tuna and Ben got the main course from the oven; herb crusted beef and creamy, buttery potatoes.  We ate slowly, talking, making each other laugh, silly and comfortable with each other again after the earlier strangeness.  Again, he wouldn’t let me help clean up and I went outside to smoke a cigarette while he packed the dishes away. 

He came outside and leaned on the railing next to me, “Are you ready for dessert?”

“No, I think I’d rather wait for a while.  I’m going to be sore tomorrow from the track, would you like to take a soak in the hot tub with me?”

“Yes, I would.”

He bent down, lifted the cover from the tub and held his hand out to me.

“I need to put my hair up first.  Could you get me a hair clip from my blue bag?  I think it’s beside the bed.”

“Of course.  I’ll be right back.”

I watched him go inside and lift my bag onto the bed, opening the zipper and reaching inside.  He lifted the box he’d left in his desk for me from the bag and looked up, making eye contact with me.  I smiled.


	21. Having Your Cake...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To have one's cake and eat it too:  
> 1) to have something in one's possession and be able to use or exploit it; to have it both ways.  
> 2) to do or get two good things at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm going away for a few days, I won't getting much writing done, so I'm posting this early.  
> It's a very short chapter but I didn't want to leave y'all hanging for too long since I received a bit of flak over the ending of Chapter 20, which totally served me right ;)   
> There's very little plot in this chapter (it's nearly all smut), so if DP is a trigger for you, maybe just skip this one.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 21 – Having Your Cake…

 

I leaned back, my elbows on the railing behind me.  I was trying to look casual, relaxed but I was pretty sure he wasn’t fooled as he stood beside the bed, watching me.  He set the white box on the bed, his fingers lingering, tapping the lid.  I wondered if that was nerves betraying his studied calm or if he was biding his time, deciding what his next move would be.  He didn’t leave me wondering for long, reaching back into my bag and finding the hair clip I’d told him I needed when I had sent him inside. 

As he came toward me I had a sudden flash of what a prey animal must feel at the moment it realizes it’s being stalked and I might have laughed if it hadn’t been so thrilling.  He moved slowly but with total determination and didn’t say a word when he got to me, taking my face in his hands and kissing me fiercely.  I clutched at his waist, rising onto my toes to get closer to him, our tongues meeting; sliding together and apart until he broke away.  His hands fell to the belt of the robe I was wearing, working the knot loose.  He leaned into me, over me, one arm around my back as he palmed my breast, his eyes on mine, his fingers tugging at my nipples through the thin satin of my chemise until they were peaked and swollen.  His hand went down my side and under the hem of the shift, between my legs, his palm pushing against my pubic bone.

As he slowly slid one long finger between my lower lips, his mouth came down on mine again, hard, demanding and that was all it took to bring me back to when we were in the shower, back to that place of arousal and longing.  I raised my foot to rest my heel on the patio railing and he took full advantage as I’d hoped he would, stroking with his hand, opening me so he could plunge first one, then two fingers inside.  His fingers curled, probing and snaking inside me and I moaned into his open mouth.  I thrust my hips at him when he pushed against my clitoris, his fingers moving easily in the heat of my arousal and I grabbed his forearm to pull him deeper.  He stopped and his fingers were gone.

“No, no, no.” I groaned, my head falling to his chest.

He held me tightly and said quietly, “Right to the edge, but you’ll fall when I say so.”               

I was breathing hard and I dug my nails into his arms in frustration, “I don’t like this.  It’s mean.” I grumbled.

“I warned you, you knew it was coming.”

“It’s the only thing that was.” I bit his chest through his shirt.

He hissed in surprise, in pain, and wrapped his hand in my hair, pulling my head from his chest. For a long moment we looked into each other’s eyes.    ~~~~

“Here,” he finally said, taking my hair clip from his pocket and handing it to me, “put your hair up and get in the hot tub.  I’ll get drinks – wine or whiskey?”

“Whiskey,” I answered and as he walked away I muttered, “Jerk.”

“I heard that.”

“I don’t care.”

I twisted my hair up, dropped my clothes to the deck and slid into the steaming tub.  I let myself sink down until the water was up to my chin.  I was briefly tempted to relieve my tension myself; I was still that close, that near to the brink.  But I let it stay a temptation - I might not like what Ben was doing but I understood it and if this was where he wanted me, I would accept it. I stayed submerged when Ben returned with towels and drinks.  He joined me and leaned back with his arms on the ledge of the tub. ~~~~

“Are you soaking or sulking?”

“Both.” I said.

He offered me a glass of whiskey, “Oh my sweet, it’s going to get so much worse before it gets better.”

Sitting up and resting my head on the edge of the tub, I took the glass and had a large swig.  Ben moved his hand to play with my hair and for a while, neither of us spoke.  I finished my drink, turned to put the glass down and he reached for me, pulling me onto his lap with my back to his chest.

“That’s better.” He said; his arms around my waist.

“Better for what?  Torturing me?”

“Torture,” he scoffed, “Jesus Christ, you’re melodramatic.  And if you must know, yes.”

He wound his legs around my shins, and stuck his hand between my thighs, opening me up while sucking on my neck.  His other arm kept me close to his chest, his strong fingers pinching and plucking at my sensitive nipples.   I struggled half-heartedly until he started to move under me, the beginning of an erection pushing provocatively against my ass.  He kept nipping at my earlobe, telling me in his deep voice how good it felt when I wriggled on him, how much it excited him to see me so undone.   I was increasingly desperate to come but tried to hold still, to not give him any clues about how close I was getting.  I let my head fall onto his shoulder and turned, nuzzling at his neck and rolling my hips in circles, as he stroked my clitoris with his fingers but he knew me too well.  Just as I felt my muscles begin to tense, he froze and pulled his hand away.

“Goddamnit!” I swore in frustration.

I opened my legs and pushed against him but in the water, it was nothing for him to lift me off and set me down next to him on the seat.  He put his arm around my shoulders and wouldn’t let me move away.  As he passed me his glass of whiskey, barely touched, I scowled at him.

“You’re not drinking?”

He smiled lazily, “I need to stay focussed.”

My cigarettes and lighter were on the railing where I’d been standing.  I tried to get up but he pressed me down.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I need to smoke.”

“Stay put, I’ll get them.”

“Thank you.” I said grudgingly.

Ben hopped out of the tub and retrieved them for me, along with the ashtray.  

He lit a cigarette and held it to my lips.  We smoked in silence and when we were finished, he reached for me, dragging me onto his lap.

“No, please Ben, not again.” I rested my forehead on his shoulder and shuddered as he made a lazy movement down my spine with his fingernails.

“Yes again, my beautiful girl.  But we can wait for a bit.” 

~~H~~ e lifted my hand from the water, looking at our fingertips, “We’re all wrinkly.  Let’s go inside.  We should talk.”

We sat on the bed, me wrapped in a towel and Ben in his robe.  He looked at the white box and raised an eyebrow.

“So, you brought it.”

“Obviously.” I smiled.

“Tell me why.”

“Tell me why you bought it.” I countered.

“I knew you were going to ask that and honestly, I’m not exactly sure what the fascination is.” He held my hand, his thumb rubbing my knuckles as he thought, “There have been a few times when we’ve had sex that I’ve used my fingers while I’ve been inside you and you liked it as much as I did.  That time in the kitchen, with the olive oil?  I still think about that.  I could feel my fingers inside you against my cock when I moved and it felt incredible.  And then there was you, how it felt to take you like that, how tight you were around me.”  

His eyes drifted, unfocussed, as he remembered, “But mostly, it was the way you went completely to pieces.”

He was right. My heart was beating fast from the memory alone.  We made eye contact.

“Is it warm in here?” I asked.

He put his finger under my chin, tilting my head up and gently pressing his lips to mine, “Your turn.  Tell me why you brought it.”

“I also thought about that time in the kitchen.  You were being rough, which you know I love and physically it was, oh god, it was perfect.  I was so turned on by the whole idea of what we were doing; it felt amazing and then it got better; it hurt, but in exactly the right way.”

“I want to make you feel that again, but more.  Better.  I want to feel it again.”

He pressed my hand to his groin, letting me feel how hard he already was.

My voice came out raspy, my throat dry, “I do too.  There’s something about the thought of being filled up like that that I do find…exciting.  But I was relieved when you said you’d never be able to share me, to see someone else touch me, because I just couldn’t.  I can’t imagine being touched that way by anyone but you ever again.”

“No, not ever.” He agreed.

“So then it seems you’ve come up with the perfect solution.”

I leaned over and opened the box, taking out the vibrator and a bottle of lube.  I held both in my hands, “Why does it look bigger now than it did 3 days ago?”

“I’ll go as slowly as you need me to and you can stop at any time if it’s too much.  Once we start, it’s all up to you.”

“Haven’t we already started?”

He only smiled.

“Did you bring a belt?”

I stared at him, “Why do you need a belt?”

“Because I only brought one and I need two to tie you up.”

My skin tingled.

“In my bag.” I said.

He got off the bed, found his jeans and pulled his belt from the loops then dug around in my bag until he came up with my leather belt.  It was one I’d had for ages, the leather soft and pliable.

“Stand up and put your hands together.”

I clasped my fingers loosely and he carefully wound my belt around my wrists, doing up the buckle to secure me.  Picking his belt up, he slid it under mine, doing it up to form a large loop.  He kissed me, easing me back a step until I felt the post at the corner of the bed pressing into my back.  I followed his gaze as he looked up and he raised my arms, dropping the loop of his belt over the finial at the top of the post.  He glanced down at my feet, slowly tightening the loop until I was standing on my toes.  He pulled my towel off and stepped back, taking in the sight of me, bound with my arms over my head.

He was breathing deeper, his lips parted and watching his reaction, I felt my nipples tighten.  He came close again, unclipping my hair and letting it fall around my shoulders.

“That’s better.” He breathed, his fingers gliding up and down along my ribcage, “How long do you think you can stay on your toes?”

“I don’t know; my legs are a bit stiff from riding all day.  Why, are you planning to keep me like this for a while?” I asked quietly.

“I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this for a very long time.  Now that I have you where I want you, I plan to take full advantage.”

His voice was low but warm and searching his face, I saw only sweet, gentle, loving Ben.  There was no sign of the coldness, the edge that I’d been expecting when he said he wanted to bind me.  It only made me more curious to see what would happen next, if at some point he’d turn and his hard side would come out.  I realized that not knowing what to expect or when to expect it was far more unsettling than when he was hard and sharp with me from the outset. ~~~~

He wove his fingers into my hair, holding me to his mouth, kissing me softly but thoroughly as I hovered on my toes and leaned into him as much as I could with my arms fixed to the bedpost.  I felt him smile and his hands began to trace circles over my skin, moving down my back, across my stomach and up, fingers gliding along my arms to grasp the leather over my wrists.  I sighed as he pressed his body to mine, pushing me against the cool wood of the post and one hand trailed down to lift my leg to his waist.  I tightened it around him for balance and unclasped my hands, looking for the loop that held them over my head.  Feeling the movement, Ben looked up and seeing what I was trying to do, he helped, pushing the leather into my fingers so I could take some of my weight on my arms.

“That’s very clever.  Have you done this before?” He asked, untying his dressing gown.

“Don’t be silly.  You’re the only person who’s ever wanted to tie me up.”

 “I’m sure that’s not true,” he smiled, “I’m just the one who figured out how much you like giving up control, being helpless.”

“I’m not helpless.”

“I rather think you are.”

Pulling down on the belt and lifting myself, I wrapped both legs around him.

“I’m bloody not.”

“Not yet,” He said and without warning he dropped to his knees, hands under my ass, my legs ending up on his shoulders, “but you will be.”

“Ben…” I groaned as he pushed his face between my thighs, his mouth hot and wet on my sensitive flesh.  As his hands lifted me to him and he buried his face in me, the sounds of his licking and sucking effortlessly rekindled the fever inside me.  My arms were shaking, my abdominals tight as I held myself up, desperate to hang on as long as possible, hoping that this time instead of backing off, he’d let me fall.  I felt one long finger slip into my cleft; stroking and swirling and then sliding back, pressing slowly into my ass.  He pushed his tongue into my pussy, mimicking the motion of his finger and I moaned at the sensation, the barest hint of what I knew was to come.  I dug my heels into his back, my desperation growing and he pulled his head back to look at me, a second finger joining the first. 

“Almost there lovely?” he asked, his fingers easing deeper.

I closed my eyes, “Oh yes.”

“Good.” He said, pulling away, gently lowering my feet to the floor and reaching for my discarded towel to wipe his hands.

This time I couldn’t speak, couldn’t form the words even to swear at him, my only sound a shuddering breath, nearly a sob.  I tried to press my thighs together, needing relief so badly and he sat up, his hands between my knees.

“No, not that way; not when you’ve been so good for so long.”

Little threads of discomfort rippled through my groin and my breath hitched, “Ben, it hurts.”

“Poor you,” he feathered kisses over my belly, “it will all be worth it, I promise.”

He stood and unbuckled the belt holding my arms over my head, lowering me to my feet.  As he began to undo my wrists he realized that the binding had partially cut off the circulation.

“Your hands are like ice!  Why didn’t you say something?” He was appalled.

“I hadn’t noticed.” I said, flexing my fingers as the blood rushed back in and he rubbed my hands in his.

“Oh my god, I didn’t think…fuck, what an idiot.”

“It’s alright; I’m alright.  It’s just a bit of pins and needles.”

He was massaging my wrists, examining the marks left by the leather.  He didn’t seem to hear me, his face distraught.

“Ben, I’m fine.”

“You’re not.  I think these are going to bruise.”

I shook my hands free and held his face, looking into his eyes, “They’re not going to bruise and if it had been bad, I would have said something.  I was barely aware of it, that’s how good everything else you were doing was.  You’ve done nothing wrong. _I like it when you make me hurt._ ”

He gathered me in his arms, “You’re sure?”

“Don’t you dare lose your nerve now,” My voice sounded raw, “Not after the way you’ve been winding me tighter and tighter all night.  I need this.  Please Ben?  Give me what I want.”

With a growl, he lifted me and we fell onto the bed together.  I opened my legs, swiveling my hips, my hands on his ass.  He nipped at my mouth and I reached between us, circling him with my fingers, squeezing and pulling.   My lips slid across his cheek, down his throat and I sucked and bit at his skin.

He rose to his knees, “Wait.”

“No.  I’m tired of waiting.” 

I reached for him but he dragged the duvet out from under me.

“Get in and lie on your side.”

He curled himself around my back, reaching under me, guiding himself with his hand.  Feeling the blunt head of his cock prodding at me I tilted my hips, pushing back onto him.

He snaked his arm under my neck, raising himself on his elbow and I kissed his palm before resting my cheek on his hand.  He moved inside me, unhurried, ignoring my hand on his hip encouraging him to go faster.

“My love,” he whispered, “slow down or all our hard work will have been for nothing.”

I took my hand from his hip, twining my fingers with his on the pillow under my head and breathed deeply to calm myself down.  My back was curved against his stomach, my legs slightly bent at the knee.

“Good, now stay just like that.”

I heard a click as he flipped the top of the lube open.  His slick fingers smoothed down the cleft of my bum.  The tip of his index finger circled, pushed inside me and I sighed in relief, trusting that this time he would let me fall, let me come.

With his mouth moving down my neck, over my shoulder, his finger slid in and out of my ass.  As the second finger slipped into me, I shivered.   He pushed his fingers further in, shifted his weight and his cock went deeper.  I couldn’t keep still, needed to move; I needed him to move.  His fingers stretched me, twisting, sliding and I moaned when he spread them, his groin bumping his hand as he thrust his shaft into my depths.

“More.” I pleaded.

He pulled his fingers back all the way then three fingers gradually pressed me open and I groaned, long and low, turning to look at him over my shoulder.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Yes.” And we kissed, hot and eager.

His hips were moving again, his breathing fast as he pumped his hard length into me.  He sucked on my shoulder, biting down until I started to move with him, whining softly at the intrusion, the discomfort and the euphoria.  I was panting now, my muscles starting to clench on his rigid penis and he slowed again, stopped.

His fingers slid from me and returned, spreading lube, until I was slippery and vibrating with anticipation.  He leaned back, his upper body coming away from mine.  He needed room to move but I knew he also wanted to be able to see, to watch me being filled front and back.  He slid the vibrator down the crack of my ass, rubbing the tip against my anus and rotating his hips, his thick cock dragging against the walls of my pussy.  ~~~~

“Put it inside me Ben, now.”

He bent forward, kissing my back, “As little or as much as you can take.  It’s up to you.”

He withdrew his cock, barely staying inside me.  His hand pushed forward and the vibrator breached my tight opening.  His fingers had opened me but the vibrator was bigger.  And though I’d had his cock in my ass before now, I’d never felt anything like this, this fullness with him already inside me.  I breathed through my teeth as the toy spread me open.

“Ow, ohh it hurts.”

He immediately stopped.

I curled the sheet into my fists, “Keep going.”

He slid his arm out from under my neck and leaning on his elbow, placed his hand on the small of my back, rubbing gently.  He pulled the vibrator back, worked it more deeply into me.  And again.  I was trembling, my toes curling and a trickle of excited moisture ran down my thigh.  Ben slid the toy further inside me, started once again, to pull back.

“No.  All of it; give me all of it.”

This time when he moved it into me, I pushed back with a harsh shout and felt his hand on the base right up against me.

“Jesus.” He said hoarsely.

“Leave it there.  Fuck me.”

“Hold still.”

He came forward on the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around my chest.  I was moaning softly, over and over, “Please…”

Twisting his hips, he sank his cock into me and I shrieked.  I’d never felt so full, stretched tight and I strained against him, my whole body a riot of sensation.  There was pain but it was secondary to the satisfaction, the high, the molten feeling deep inside me, aching to get out. 

He was being careful, rocking with short, shallow thrusts.  In my need, I reached back again, digging my nails into his thigh urging him to _move_.  This time, he obeyed and now with every deep stroke, his pelvis pushed against the vibrator, fucking me in both holes at once, and that thought alone was nearly enough to send me into oblivion.

Ben was groaning each time he stroked into me and I concentrated on his voice and how his solid shaft slid into my wet heat, how every time my muscles clenched it felt as though he would split me in half.

“You feel huge.” I whimpered.

“Christ, how can you stand it?  I can barely get inside you.”

He had promised me I would beg to be allowed to come and now, hearing the pleasure, the wonder in his voice, I did just that.

“Please Ben, ohh god, harder please.  I’m going to come, please let me come!”

His pelvis began to smack against me wildly, one hand going between us, finding and holding the toy, fucking my ass with it in time with his fast, frantic strokes.  We moved as one, perfectly matched, the pounding rhythm as our bodies met, separated, slammed together again finally throwing me into a thrashing climax.  I howled as it consumed me, barely able to get a breath before Ben’s hand dropped to my hip, pulling me back hard to his groin as he erupted deep inside me then fell onto his side.  We were breathing so hard the whole bed was rocking.

“Don’t move.” He said and carefully slid the vibrator out of me, making me wince.

 He lifted my hair off the back of my neck and blew lightly over my skin, cooling me.  I turned for a kiss, opening my mouth to his questing tongue.  We looked into each other’s eyes.

“Good god woman, the things you let me do to you.”

I traced his beautiful lips with my finger, his chest still heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“Good god Ben,” I echoed him, “the things I want you to do to me.”

He closed his eyes and rested his head on my shoulder.  When he lifted it again after a long moment of quiet there was mischief in his eyes.

“I’m starving.  I can’t think why.”

“Me too.  Is it time for cake?”

“I think we’ve earned it.” And he rolled off the bed.

He went to the bathroom first, coming back with warm, wet cloths and a fresh towel, washing me clean.  I plumped pillows behind me and pulled the blankets up around myself, waiting for dessert.  I was grateful when he brought me a large glass of ice water and I finished it as he hit the light switch with his elbow, putting the room into semi-darkness.  He walked toward me singing ‘Happy Birthday’, a plate in either hand.

“Exactly how many candles did you put on there?” I asked when he’d finished singing.

“Only 12.”

“On one piece of cake?  Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Umm, I’m going to say no.  Now blow them out and make a wish.”

“I’ll blow them out but I don’t need wishes; I have everything I want right here.”

He couldn’t stop smiling as we sat in bed, feeding each other and sharing sticky birthday cake kisses.

 


	22. Real Isn't How You Are Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends. You've gotta love 'em, right?  
> Right?

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 22 – Real Isn’t How You Are Made

 

After breakfast the next morning, we packed up all our gear and Ben sent me outside while he boxed up the caterer’s things.   I took my cup of coffee, sat and went through my phone _,_ listening to birthday messages from my parents and friends and making sure nothing had come up at work.There wasn’t anything urgent, but Leah had texted that she had plans for Thursday and wanted to know if we could go to Jem’s on Tuesday instead.  I called Tom, who answered groggily on the fourth ring, whining that 1030 on a Sunday was an ungodly hour to phone.  I cheerfully talked his ear off until I was sure he was fully awake, confirmed that he was free on Tuesday and we set a time to meet.

Ben started loading the car and I finished my coffee and helped carry the last of our things outside.

“I never even put my feet in the sand,” I said as he locked the door behind us, “it seems such a waste of a seaside cottage.”

“I’m in no rush to get back, let’s go for a walk.  I know how much you love the ocean.”

Hand in hand we wandered down the beach.  The tide was out, the sand hard-packed underfoot.  Other weekenders were out, strolling or walking their dogs.  We made our way around the headland and came across a family, crouched down around a tidal pool.  A little girl of about four or five years was squealing with a combination of delight and terror as her dad placed a tiny crab in her palm.  Hearing us laughing, she ran over to show us.  I squatted down to have a better look while she explained to me how they shed their shells as they grow.

“When it gets bigger,” she breathlessly explained, “it has to mould.”

Ben tried to correct her, “Moult, I think it is.” He said with a gentle smile.

She fixed him with a disgusted glare, “It’s mould.  My Dad said.”

“Yeah Ben, it’s mould.  Jeez.” I grinned up at him.

With a final withering glance, she turned and ran back to her parents.  I snorted with laughter and we turned back toward the cottage.

“I don’t think she liked me very much.” He said, amused.

“Her Dad said it was mould.  You don’t get between a girl and her Dad.”

“That sounds like a warning.”

“I wouldn’t call it a warning, but while Mum can hold her own with anyone, my Dad’s pretty easy going, so I’m protective.” I smiled thinking of my parents, and how much I was looking forward to them meeting Ben.

“I’ll keep that in mind when they’re here.  Do you have to go home tonight or will you spend the night with me in Bradford?  I’ll take you to the apple pie place for supper.”

“I’ll stay with you and go back in the morning.”

“Good.” 

“I’m only staying for the pie though.  We’re not having sex.”

“We aren’t?  Why aren’t we?”

The look on his face was priceless and I grinned, “Because it hurts to walk today, that’s why.”

He grimaced in sympathy, “Is it bad?”

“I’m not in agony or anything; it’s more of an ache.” I shrugged, “I don’t mind.  It makes me think about last night.”

He kissed me on the forehead before crouching down, “Hop on, I’ll carry you.”

“I haven’t done this since I was a kid.” Climbing onto his back I said, “Are you sure I’m not too heavy?”

He stood up, his hands gripping my legs, and started walking, “Hardly.  And anyway, if I cart you around for a bit I won’t have to go for a run later.”

I tucked my nose into his neck, “You smell nice.”

“Don’t do that.”

“I can’t help it; I love the way you smell.”

“Kai, you don’t smell with your tongue.  Stop licking me.”

“But you taste nice too, salty.”

He shivered, “For fuck’s sake, cut it out.”

I laughed quietly, my lips against his neck, “What’s the matter Ben?”

“You’re not playing fair and we’re being watched.”

“Who’s watching us?”

“The couple sitting on those steps to the left.”

I looked over and waved cheerfully, “So they are.”

They waved and Ben raised his hand in return, muttering under his breath, “Ladies and gentlemen, my girlfriend, the prick tease.”

“It was one little kiss.  O.K. and maybe a nibble.  Prick tease?”

“Consider it a compliment to your powers of seduction.  I’m having a little trouble walking myself now.”

“God you’re easy.”

“God you’re awful.”

“Giddy up.” I said and squeezed my legs around him.

Still laughing, we got back to the cottage. I made him carry me all the way to the top of the stairs in retaliation for the prick tease comment.  The car was packed and the cottage locked up but before we left I tore a piece of paper from the pad in my bag and wrote a quick thank you note to the caterers, making sure to mention the birthday cake in particular.  We both signed it and I slipped it into the box of kitchen supplies on the deck.

I let Ben drive back to Bradford; I still had the drive to London to look forward to the next day.  At the hotel, I got my book and flopped onto the bed while Ben sat at the desk answering emails.  He kept interrupting me, reading me excerpts and telling me dates, asking if I wanted to attend certain events or dinners.  Most of them were so far in the future I had no idea what my schedule would be so I kept saying ‘probably’.  The next time he spoke, I looked up, hearing frustration in his voice.

I tried to explain, “You can keep asking me what I’m doing three or six or eight weeks from now but the answer isn’t going to change.  I don’t know.  If I can, I’ll go with you but I’m not going to say yes to everything now only to have you be disappointed when I have to cancel.”

“I can’t go to everything I’m asked to either and because you can’t travel right now I’m only asking you about the ones here at home.  I’m trying to decide what to say no to and it would be helpful if I knew whether or not you were able to come with me.”

The pleading tone in his voice made me look up from my book.

“I realize that.  But it doesn’t change my answer.  Unless it’s really big, something that I have to find a special dress for like a premiere; or something that’s particularly important to you, I don’t know if I can go or not until we’re closer to the date.  My schedule is adjustable but I can’t be going out five nights a week, I still have to work.”

For a moment we stared at each other. He took a breath.

“For me most of these things are work.  I have to go to a certain number of them and they need to know in advance if I’m going to be there.” He stood, pacing the room, and began ticking points off on his fingers, “I have to find time for this stuff in between rehearsals and performances and meetings and trying to have a life by spending time with you and my friends and seeing my parents.  This is part of my job but having you along would certainly make it seem more like fun.  That’s why I’m pressing you to go with me.” He stopped and looked at me.

“Well why didn’t you just say that to begin with?  If this is about making sure we get to spend enough time together, I get it – and we’ll figure it out.  When you get home, we can sit down and put everything on a calendar – your schedule and mine – and I’ll say yes to as many dates as I can.  Agreed?” He smiled and started to speak but I held my hand up, “But, you have to be flexible and cut me some slack if I have to cancel because of work.”

He jumped onto the bed and pushed me over, landing on top of me, “You have a deal.”

“You’re supposed to shake my hand,” I mumbled, “get your tongue out of my mouth.”

“Stop talking.”

We both stopped talking for a while, until I reminded him that my pants were staying on and he’d promised me apple pie.  We got ready and went out, walking to the restaurant.  Ben told me that the place had been run for years by the couple who first opened it and now their daughter and son in law had taken over, but I still wasn’t prepared when we stepped through the door and back in time. 

“Holy crap, it’s ‘Happy Days’!”

“I know, fantastic isn’t it?” He said, grinning hugely at my reaction.

It was an authentic diner, with original black and white linoleum tiles on the floor, a long counter with stools and booths upholstered in red vinyl. The walls were covered with pennants and hung with 45’s.  There were even tabletop juke boxes.

“Do they have milkshakes?  Please tell me they have milkshakes.”

“They have milkshakes.  Do you want to sit at a booth or at the counter?”

As we took a seat at the counter, it was obvious how often Ben had been here by the way the staff greeted him, like a regular.  We both ordered chocolate shakes and after the first sip, I waved away the menu I was offered.

“I already know what I want; a cheeseburger and French fries.  If they’re half as good as this,” I pointed to my glass, “I’ll be in heaven.”

“She means chips.  She’s Canadian.” Ben said to the waitress, with a grin and a ‘what are you going to do’ shrug, “And I’ll have what she’s having.”

The food was better than I’d hoped and the plates were huge.  I made myself stop before I ate myself sick.  In the end, there was no way I could eat a piece of pie, so we took two slices to go and walked back to the hotel.

“How did you find that place?”

“The crew were all raving about how good it was.”

“And they know you, so, you’ve eaten there a lot?”

“Two or three times a week maybe, since filming started.” He opened the door to our room.

“My jeans are tight from one meal.  How have you not gained any weight eating like that?”

“Sexual frustration.”

“I beg your pardon?  Have you been jerking off for fitness?”

“No you lunatic,” he laughed, looking over his shoulder on his way to the bathroom “I’ve been using the gym here at the hotel, lifting weights and running in your absence.” He spoke over the sound of the shower coming on.

I snuck up behind him, my approach covered by the sound of the water and he jumped at my voice in his ear, “You know sex doesn’t really burn as many calories as people think, right?” 

“It does the way we do it.  And speaking of which, are you sure...?”  I could see his back tightening in the mirror when he stood close to sneak a kiss. And grab my ass.

“Yes, I’m sure.  Besides, I’m way too full.  I’d throw up with you bouncing on top of me.”

I left him laughing, to take his shower.  Cold, most likely.

We cuddled in bed, watching a movie and halfway through I did manage to eat part of a piece of pie but fell asleep almost immediately after.  In the morning, I had a quick shower, woke Ben up with a rousing chorus of Sonny and Cher and left for London.

I went directly to my office, starting the coffee maker and sitting down to check the phone, my first task, as usual.  There was a note in Phil’s messy handwriting telling me that he’d signed for a package for me on Friday and had locked it in the safe.  I got the envelope and opened it, drinking my coffee, signing and initialing per the lawyer’s instructions.  I made a couple of copies, one for myself and one to send to my Immigration attorney.  When the messenger arrived to pick up the documents that afternoon, I was still working the phone, trying to sort out a couple of jobs that I just didn’t have the staff to cover.  If things hadn’t settled down in the next couple of weeks, I was going to have to hire not only someone to help in the office, but maybe another gardener as well, because what was supposed to be the off season was looking as though it was still very much on.

At home that evening I unpacked and stood looking at the pile of laundry on the closet floor.  I decided I couldn’t be bothered and was jamming everything into my hamper when my phone rang.  It was Cass, calling to confirm that she would meet us at Jem’s for dinner the next day.

“You said last week that you don’t read Ben’s interviews and stuff anymore?”

“Nope.” I was still eyeing the hamper, threatening to explode with clothing.

“You should make an exception and read the one that just came out.”

“Why?” I asked warily.

“Because it’s sweet.”

“This is the one where he says he’s in love?”

“Oh, you know about it?” She sounded disappointed.

“He told me because he thought I’d be pissed off that he’d talked about me.” I said as I went down to the kitchen to find something to drink.

“If you read it, there’s no way you’d be pissed off.  I think the guy who wrote it has a little crush on Ben.  It’s really romantic.”

“The way he describes Ben is romantic?”

“No you berk.  The way Ben…look, why don’t I just read you the good bits?”

I thought about it for a minute.  I could always stop her if there was something I didn’t want to hear.

Taking a beer from the fridge, I headed for the couch, “Alright, go ahead.”

She cleared her throat, “So it starts by saying they met in the hotel bar for a drink and he talks about Ben looking a bit rough and admitting that he hasn’t been sleeping well.  There’s a bunch of stuff about the film he’s shooting, he talks about his co-stars, blah, blah, blah.  Then he asks him what he’s got coming up next and they talk about a play – here’s where it gets good, ‘We’ve been discussing his rigorous travel schedule and how much time he’s spent away from home in the last year, both filming and doing press.  When I ask Benedict what he most appreciates about working back in England, his tired face suddenly comes alive, ‘Waking up in my own bed with my girlfriend in my arms.  When we’re together, that’s when it feels like I’m home.’  I press him for details, asking if this is the woman with whom he was photographed at a recent movie premiere.  Cumberbatch nods, his handsome face softening as he smiles and says her name, ‘Kai’.” 

“I love him so fucking much.” I sighed.

“What did you say?”

“I said, ‘I love him so fucking much’.  He said it to me once and it stuck, it’s kind of ‘our thing’.”  

 “Then you have to hear this next bit, ‘For a moment he appears to catch himself saying more than he’d intended but it seems he can’t help himself, ‘I’ve never known anyone like her.  I love her.  I love her so f***ing much.’ he continues with the smile of a man clearly besotted.”

I burst out laughing, “He didn’t tell me he’d said that!”

“It’s great, isn’t it?  And that reporter is totally crushing on him; ‘his handsome face softening’, I mean come on.”

“I don’t blame him if he is.  Right now, I am too.”

“There is one other thing though.”

“Cass.  Why?” I sank back onto the sofa, “Why does there have to be one other thing?  Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not, but later in the article, the reporter does mention your last name and that you’re Canadian and a gardener.  Basically the same stuff from over the summer.  There’s a picture of the two of you from Tom’s thing and you look great, if that helps.”

“That was all out there already, so I’m not really bothered.”

“And they used the picture of you flipping the bird at that photographer again.  O.K. so, I’m going to go, see you tomorrow.”

She hung up still laughing at my pained sigh and I stared at the phone.  That picture was going to be used in my obituary and it served me right. 

I was getting dressed and running late when Ben called the next evening.

“I don’t have much time.  Tom’s picking me up in 15 minutes.”

“What are you singing?”

“Probably the new ones I sent you last week but I’m not sure what else.” I tucked the phone against my neck, threading my belt through the loops on my jeans.

“I won’t keep you, but have fun.  Tell everyone I said hello.”

“I will.  What time will you be home tomorrow?”

“I shouldn’t be later than eight.”

“Don’t eat, I’ll cook for you.” I was hopping on one foot, trying to pull my boot on, “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Enjoy your date with Tom.”

“Shut up _._ ”

Even through the phone, his rumbling laugh tickled my ear.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Ben.  See you tomorrow.”

I was just coming out the door when the taxi pulled up.  As Tom jumped out to hold the car door open for me, I saw him slide his phone into the top pocket of his jacket. 

As I came down the stairs, he looked me up and down, “Darling!  You look gorgeous.  Did you wear that just for me?”

I wasn’t wearing anything special - jeans, cowboy boots and a plain white shirt, so I knew immediately who he was on the phone with.  I jumped down the last step and pushed Tom up against the taxi door.

“You know I did.  I’ve been dying to see you.  Kiss me.” I said breathlessly.

His cheeks turned pink and I grinned, “Fucking imbeciles.  Who do you think you’re dealing with?”

I could hear laughter through the phone and I plucked it from his pocket as I climbed into the car.  Tom followed me in.

I gave the driver the address of the café then spoke into the phone, “Seriously Ben?  Who were you trying to embarrass, me or Tom?”

“It didn’t matter, either way was funny.”

“You’re such a child.  I’m hanging up now so I can pay attention to my date.”

He was still laughing as I ended the call and passed Tom his phone.

“It wasn’t my idea, I assure you.  He said you’d think it was funny.” But he did look like he’d enjoyed it.

“I do and it might even have worked if I hadn’t seen the phone.  That was a dead giveaway.”

On the way to the café, he wished me a belated happy birthday and asked how I’d enjoyed our weekend away.  Ben had told him about booking the track day and he wanted details.  

“He was anxious.  He very much wanted for you to have fun.”

“I had a great time and it was a complete surprise, not what I was expecting at all even after he’d asked me to bring our riding gear with me.  I thought he’d book us into a romantic bed and breakfast or something equally quiet.”

“You’re lucky you ride a motorbike or you probably would have ended up skydiving or something equally terrifying.”

I grinned, “I’d have been O.K. with that; I like scaring myself.  I keep forgetting that he’s sort of a daredevil at heart.  Although it does make him nervous that I am too.  He’s protective.”

“He has mentioned that you drive like a demon.  Does it bother you that he’s protective?”

“If it were anyone else I'd feel like they were insinuating I was incapable in some way.  With Ben I don’t mind because he knows I’m not reckless but he loves me, worries about me and somehow, that makes it alright.  Most of the time,” I amended with a smile, “sometimes I have to remind him that I managed to keep myself alive before he came along.” 

We were the first to arrive and Jem walked us to the table he’d held for our group.  Again, he’d seated us at the back of the room, next to the window.  The restaurant was quiet, but it was still early.  Jem was behind the bar, pouring drinks when Charlie, Cass and Leah came through the door.

“Sorry we’re late,” Leah said, “Charlie’s fault.”

“It was your fault,” Charlie contended, “If you hadn’t worn that godawful dress to begin with, we wouldn’t have had to stop by your place so you could change.”

She shook her head, “I like that dress.  Cass liked it too.  Only you thought it was ugly.”

“You know I was right, or why did you go all the way home and let me pick something else for you to wear?”

“Because it was easier than arguing with you or listening to you bitch about it all night.”

Tom was listening to their exchange with a bemused expression on his face but I had heard variations of this argument before.  Charlie took it personally if he had to be seen out in public with people who he thought were dressed poorly.  When I still lived with Jem, Charlie was forever trying to make me change before we went out because he found my jeans and t-shirts boring.  I’d always stood my ground, wearing what was comfortable and what I liked, but since the premiere, when it came to dressing up, he was going to have a say in what I wore from now on.

Now that Leah had made her point, and Jem had come back with drinks for the table, everyone said hello and the conversation started to flow.  We looked over the menu so we could eat early because I could never sing well on a full stomach.  Cass and Leah were trying to decide if they should share something and Charlie was talking to Jem. 

“So, have you given it anymore thought, what I should sing?”

Tom and I had been exchanging texts, discussing options for what he could sing and now he brought it up again.

“I’m surprised you’re so nervous.  You’ve performed in front of much larger crowds than this.”

“Yes but that’s acting and that’s what I do.  Singing in front of people is completely different; I’m not nearly as confident about my abilities.  That’s why I asked if you’d sing a duet with me because at least then I’m not up there by myself.”

“O.K, if we’re doing one together, we probably should do ‘That’s All It Took’.  You said you know it pretty well, it’s a classic and everyone who comes here would love that.  See how you’re feeling after that but I’d like you to do the Ryan Adams one, because I want to hear it.”

“You’ll go first though, right?”

I smiled, “Yes and I’m singing a Metallica song and I’m not sure how that’s going to go over, so following me, you’ll be in great shape.  But if you do decide to do ‘Save the Last Dance’, don’t do the Buble version, make sure you country it up.”

“Alright,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “I feel better now.”

“No one cares if you’re note-perfect here Tom.  It’s not as though they bought a ticket to come and hear you.  It’s supposed to be fun, so finish your drink and try to and enjoy it.  Pretend it’s karaoke.”

“I’ve only ever done karaoke when I was so drunk I hardly remembered it the next day.”

“Exactly,” I said, raising my glass, “cheers.”

Laughing, he took a drink and turned to talk to Charlie.  Cass grinned at me when I caught her eye and she and I told Leah about Ben’s interview and how the infamous picture had made a re-appearance.

“You’ve not had any trouble though, no being followed again or anything?” Leah asked, concerned.

“No not so far, so maybe I’m overestimating my own importance.  That would be good.”

“I’ll cross my fingers and hope you’re right but wait and see what happens when Ben’s back and the two of you are out together.”

I hoped she was wrong, but I had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t.  It didn’t really matter – I wasn’t going to hide or do anything differently anyway.  I’d promised myself and Ben that I wouldn’t let any of it get to me and I planned to try and keep that promise.

Alice appeared at the table, passing out our plates.  She told me she had taken the early shift this evening and that she’d come and join us when she was off.  We ate, applauding Jem for the meal.  While he was mostly front of house these days, he still collaborated with his head chef on the menus and he tested everything himself.  He’d recently had a write up in a good-sized paper and as a result, the café was getting even busier than usual.  I was proud of him, of how hard he’d worked to make it a success and pleased that it was paying off. 

While we were eating, Jem got up to organize the first set, calling musicians up to the stage and doing a quick sound check.  I talked Tom through the process, pointing out during the set how the musicians supported each other, even when they were playing songs they weren’t entirely familiar with and could see him relaxing as he took it all in and I was glad, because I wanted him to have fun.  Even though it had been his idea to come along tonight, this was my stomping ground and I felt a little responsible for him, for making sure he had a good time. ~~~~

The first and second sets went by quickly and then Jem was back onstage, tuning up and I joined him.  We warmed up with ‘Love at the Five and Dime’ and then moved straight into the Metallica song, ‘Nothing Else Matters’.  When Jem started playing the opening chords, I saw a few smiles of recognition in the audience and when I started singing, there were a few cheers.  It was fun to rework a song, to take something completely out of left field and make it over to sound country and the crowd clapped enthusiastically when we were done.   As I was talking about the next song, the Pink cover, I saw Alice deliver a shot glass of something to Tom, which he immediately downed.  I winked at him when he looked up at the stage.  After I’d finished my third song, I took a quick drink of water and went back to the mike.

“I have a friend here tonight who’s going to come up and sing with me.  It’s his first time here, so give him a warm welcome.”

There was clapping as Tom made his way up to join me.  As he stepped onto the stage, it suddenly got very quiet as people recognized him.  Jem stepped forward to adjust his mike stand while I introduced the song we were going to do together.

“This is an old one, a George Jones classic that most of you probably know, ‘That’s All it Took’.”

I’d never heard Tom sing before now, let alone practiced with him, so I was pleasantly surprised when he started on the first verse.  Years of theatre experience had helped him, as he sounded confident and strong.  I joined him, singing the harmony and I glanced back at Jem, who nodded his approval.  Tom kept his eyes closed throughout most of the song, and when he finally opened them during the last verse, we made eye contact and he moved over to share my microphone.  Our voices worked well together and by the end, he couldn’t stop smiling.  I took a quick bow and left him to do another tune on his own.

I sat down at our table and when he finished ‘Save the Last Dance’ we all cheered like mad.  Looking completely in his element, he strapped on a guitar and sang the Ryan Adams song we’d talked about, ‘If I Am a Stranger’.  He did an amazing job and when Leah turned around to pick up her glass at the end I knew I wasn’t the only one who thought so when I noticed she had tears in her eyes.  Tom came back to the table and I got up to give him a hug.

“I have no idea what you were so worried about, you were fantastic.  You made Leah cry.”

“What?  Oh Leah, I’m so sorry.” He laughed, reaching across the table to pat her hand as he sat down.

Cass interrupted, “She’s fine.  She’s just soft hearted.”

“I think it’s beautiful when something moves you that way,” Tom said quietly, “Too many people are afraid of their emotions.”

Cass looked like she’d been slapped and quickly got up to go to the bathroom.  Charlie asked Tom a question and I caught Leah’s eye.  I glanced toward the bathroom and mouthed ‘Fuck’.  She nodded and got up to go check on Cass.  The girls came back shortly and Cass smiled to let me know she was O.K. but her nose was a little red.  She had a huge crush on Tom and Leah and I both knew she was probably embarrassed or feeling like she’d been reprimanded but fortunately, Tom, still pumped on adrenaline from his set, was oblivious to the exchange. 

Alice and Jem joined us and we closed the place down, drinking and talking and there was tons of laughter.  Jem locked up and we stood outside on the pavement waiting for our taxis.  I was standing a little off to the side smoking with Charlie and watching Tom and Leah having a quiet conversation.  Cass was making plans with Alice who called over her shoulder to me to ask if Ben and I were coming to her friend’s art exhibit.

“Oh shit, I completely forgot to ask him.  He’s home tomorrow though, so I’ll call you and let you know.”

Jem was driving so he and Alice left and Tom and I let the others take the first cab.  He stood next to me, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.  I grinned.

“You’re still high, aren’t you?”

“Yup.  Christ, I love being in front of a live audience.  Even when I’m terrified, there’s no feeling like it.”

“I know.  I haven’t been singing as much as I used to when I lived with Jem and I miss it.”

“Well, I’d be happy to come with you whenever you like,” He said, throwing a friendly arm around my shoulders, “I had a great time.”

Our cab arrived and Tom dropped me at home.  It was late so I set my alarm and went straight to bed but I still didn’t get to work as early as I’d planned and ended up having to stay late.  On the way home, I stopped for groceries.  I was just unlocking the front door, balancing the bags, when a car pulled up and I heard Ben’s voice.

“Good timing.  Hello my love.”

I dropped the grocery bags, running back down the stairs to him and we hugged.  I gave him a loud, silly kiss on the lips.

“It’s barely been three days, how come I’ve missed you so much?”

“Cupid.  Shot you with a love arrow, right in your lovely bum.” He said, patting me on the butt.

“I don’t think that was Cupid.” I whispered as his driver shut the lid of the boot and came around with his bags.

He was laughing as he thanked the driver and took his bags, following me back up the steps.

Ben took his things upstairs then came back down to help with supper.  He opened a bottle of wine and I passed him a couple of potatoes to slice while I cut up the chicken.  I told him about our night out at Jem’s and what a good time we’d all had.

“You sounded good too.” He said.

“How do you know?” I looked up, confused.

“Tom had Charlie film the two of you on his phone and he sent the video to me last night.  You sing well together.”

“Do you think so?”

“Mm-hmm, but I think you’re better when you sing with Jeremy.” His head was down as he sliced the potatoes, “Your voices just work together and you have an ease when you’re on stage with him that you didn’t have with Tom.”

“You know what surprised me?  How nervous he was.  I thought someone with his experience wouldn’t have that kind of stage fright.”

“He’s always like that before he goes on stage.  But he was also concerned about making a good impression.  He didn’t want to look bad in front of you.”  He looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

“In front of me?  Why?”

“He knows how I feel about you and he wants you to like him.”

“Oh for crying out loud, why wouldn’t I?    He’s kind and funny and smart.  He’s incredibly likeable.  He’s sort of like Jem that way, everyone seems to like him.”

He cut the last piece of potato and set the knife down, grinning, “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

I laughed, putting my arms around his waist, “You want to hear something weird?  Other men don’t even register as men to me anymore, they’re just people.  You are, quite literally, the only man for me.”

He smiled, looking pleased but strangely thoughful and I wondered what going through his mind.

“Let’s get the food into the oven and then find something to do to pass the time until it’s ready.” 

“I could help you unpack.” I suggested, turning back to the counter, “Or we could have a game of Scrabble.”

“Not. Scrabble.” He said definitively.

“I’ll spot you 50 points.”

“I had something rather more intimate in mind.”

“Did you really?” I was tossing the chicken and potatoes in the baking pan with some fresh herbs and olive oil, “You can’t wait until after we’ve eaten?”

“No, I don’t think I can,” he said, coming up behind me and lifting my hair, his lips on the nape of my neck, “come to bed with me.”

“Oh alright, if you really can’t think of anything else to do...” I teased, even as I shivered with delight.

“I’m sure I could, but I don’t want to.”

I washed my hands, Ben threw the pan in the oven and I set the timer.

“We have an hour.”

“That might just be enough.”

We went upstairs and Ben turned the bedside lamp on.  He turned, holding his arms out and I stepped into them with my head to his chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart.  He was warm and solid and with his arms around me, I felt completely at peace and intensely happy to have him home and all to myself.

I looked up and we stared into each other’s eyes, not having to say a word to know what the other was feeling.  He kissed me then, so sweetly it made my knees weak.  I moved my hand to the back of his neck, ran my fingers through his hair as he kissed along my jaw to my throat.  His hands went to the front of my shirt, popping the buttons and his mouth followed as he went to his knees.  My eyes closed as his lips slid over my skin, his arms around my waist, his mouth moving down my ribs to my hip.  Slipping my shirt off, I knelt down with him, untucking his t-shirt and pulling it off, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin.  I put my arms around his neck and we kissed; hungry for the contact, excited by it, but still gentle. 

Ben reached into my hair, undoing the clips, dropping them to the floor and he buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply as he ran his hands through my hair.  His quiet sigh when he exhaled raised goosebumps on my skin and I leaned into him, rolling my hips into his as his big hands pressed against the small of my back, pulling me close.  He tightened his grip and stood, effortlessly lifting me up with him and I smiled at him.

“I love it when you do that.  I’m not used to feeling delicate.”

“I love that you let me, that you let yourself be vulnerable and soft with me.  That’s what I meant when I told you that you make me feel powerful,” he whispered, “When it’s just us, when we’re alone.”

“My sweet Ben,” I took his face in my hands and kissed him, “make love to me.”

Untucking the sheets, he laid me down on the bed.  He undressed and knelt between my legs, running his fingertips down my body and into my waistband.  Bending to kiss my stomach, he inched my jeans down my legs then lay on top of me, his mouth on mine, his hand cupping my breast and squeezing, feeling for my nipple through the lace of my bra.  I arched my back as his hand moved under me to open the clasp.  I lifted my arms and he slid my bra off, claiming my nipple with his warm mouth, sweeping his tongue around the areola and I sighed as he sucked, pushing his pubic bone against mine.  He raised his head, watching my face, his fingers tantalizing, slippery, tugging at the rosy tip of my breast.

“Jesus you’re beautiful.” I said.

“So are you,” He said; his voice rough with emotion.

“Kiss me.”

He moved up to lie beside me and I turned onto my side, stroking his cheek with my fingers.  My lips opened under his, our tongues coming together, his hand caressing my hip and then moving between my legs.  I raised my knee, resting my leg on his thigh as his fingers stroked me through my underwear until I reached down, grasping his forearm.

“Touch me…” I whispered against his mouth.

His fingers slid under the lace and I held my breath in anticipation.  One long finger pushed between my swollen lower lips, dragging over my clitoris, over my wet opening and back, again and again.  He moved so slowly, kissing me the whole time, listening to my breathing and responding to my cues until I was writhing against him and he gradually eased his finger inside me.  We groaned into each other’s mouths and the sound of his pleasure at touching me was so sensual that without warning, overcome by his reaction, I came. 

Shaking, I opened my eyes.  He was smiling.

“What happened there?”

“You did.  You groaned and I just…oh god, Ben.”

I shuddered, an aftershock rippling through my abdomen and he smiled again.

“Tell me what you want; you can have anything, everything.”

“I want you,” He said, his finger still slowly moving inside me, “I don’t need anything else.”

Rolling me onto my back, he nibbled and kissed his way down my body, catching the top of my panties in his teeth and pulling them down which I found ridiculously sexy.  I lifted my bum and he slid them down my legs, his lips following.  He held my ankle, bent to press his mouth to the sensitive spot at the back of my knee and I sighed at the feel of his tongue moving up my thigh but I stopped him.

“I need you inside me.”

He tilted his head, watching my face, “You don’t want this?  My mouth on you?”

“No.  Yes…I don’t know.  Ben…” I moaned as he decided for me, his tongue sliding down my cleft.

He licked, sucked, his tongue lapping at me and I gasped when he pursed his lips around my clitoris; drawing it into his mouth.  I started to squirm, trying to get closer to him but he wouldn’t let me, pulling back just enough to make me stop then burying his face in me until I couldn’t keep still, clutching at the bedding.  He took his time, drawing it out until I was moaning incoherently; completely unable to form words, my head thrashing on the pillow.  And then he was on top of me, looking into my eyes and pushing me open, sinking his thick shaft deep.

I couldn’t take my eyes off his face, even when he started to move.  His breath caught as he began to thrust long and slow, so I could feel every inch of him.  Rocking my hips, I moved with him, I had to, had to try to give him the same pleasure he was giving me.  Twining my fingers in his hair, I dragged his mouth to mine, mewling and gasping as our bodies worked together, instinctively.  My mouth on his neck, I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly as he bore down, his hips driving his length into me over and over.

He was panting, hard, his sweaty body slapping against mine and he shifted his weight, his chest pressing me down into the mattress.  His hands slid underneath me, squeezing my bum and he raised me up, lifting me to his insistent strokes. 

“Ohh my god, oh that’s good.” He groaned. ~~~~

It was perfect - his desperate, uncontrolled sounds, the way he felt on top of me, inside me and I dug my fingers into his back, crying his name as I started to orgasm, clenching around his hardness.  His muscles seized and he came with a guttural moan, collapsing onto me.

Trying to catch my breath, I kissed the top of his head where it rested on my chest, “That, my love, was spectacular.”

He raised his head, his eyes creasing as he smiled, “I think all this practice is really starting to pay off.”

Before I could answer, the oven timer rang and we both started to giggle. 

“See, one hour.  Perfect timing.”  He planted one last kiss on my lips and sat up, “I’ll go get that out of the oven, come join me whenever you’re ready.”

He quickly got dressed and went back downstairs. It took me a bit longer until I found a pair of sweatpants and put on one of his t-shirts, soft with age.  Padding barefoot down the staircase, I could hear him singing quietly to himself in the kitchen and I stopped to listen.  No one would ever mistake him for a singer, but he could carry a tune and I smiled, hearing the lyrics to ‘Nothing Else Matters’.  I peeked around the corner and he grinned when he saw me.

“Why’d you stop?”

“I’m not singing in front of you.  It’s embarrassing.”

“But you sounded fine.  I didn’t know you knew that song.”

“I didn’t really, but after you sent it to me I listened to you sing it about twenty times.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

He shrugged; shy now that he knew I’d heard him.  He’d taken plates down from the cupboard and he served us both while I refilled our wine glasses and we ate on the couch, in front of the T.V.

“Oh, I keep forgetting to ask, are you busy on Friday night?”

“I’ve been invited to a thing, but I could probably skip it.  Why?”

“Do you remember Alice telling you about her friend Michael’s art exhibit?”

He nodded.

“It’s this Friday and she really wants us all to go.”

“Who?”

“The usual crew - Jem, obviously and Charlie, Leah, Cass, me and you if you were free.  What were you invited to?” 

He shook his head, “A store opening.  It’s not important, I can cancel.”

“No, go if they’re expecting you.  We’re all meeting for a bite to eat first and heading to the gallery afterward.  You could just come after your thing.”

“Yeah, that would work actually.  I can go for a little while, for appearance’s sake and then join you.  Would you send me a text with the address?  And while we’re on the subject, you know I won’t be home tomorrow evening?”

“You mentioned a meeting?”

“That’s right.  There’s a film I’m supposed to be doing next fall and I’m meeting with the director and one of the producers for supper.  I’m not looking forward to it.  They sent me an advance of the script and it’s not good.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s shit.  Worse, it’s amateurish shit.  It reads like a fucking soap opera and I’m not doing it unless they agree to some rewrites.”

“You can do that?  Refuse something you’ve already committed to?”

“I can if I have script approval written into my contract, which I do with this project.”

“Why don’t you have it with all of your projects?” I asked, curious, since I had no idea how that sort of thing worked.

“With the ones being done by larger studios or that have better established backers, or bigger names attached, it’s harder to secure that kind of thing.  With those, I have to trust that they know what they’re doing, whereas with ones like this, smaller films, they’re willing to make some concessions to get me on board and I have a bit more control.”

“So there’s kind of a ratio – how big the project is compared to how big they think having you involved is going to be for them?”

“Yeah, sort of – their pull versus my name.  That’s why it’s important to have a good agent.  It’s their job to make sure I get the best deal possible.  And that, like in this case, if the thing looks like it could tank, I have the ability to walk away.”

“Hmm, interesting.”

He stood up, taking my empty plate, “Is it?” he grinned, “I wouldn’t have thought it was, to anyone but me.” ~~~~

“Well, of course it is.  And I want to understand it so you can talk to me about it.”

He sat back down, putting the plates on the coffee table and resting his hand on my leg, “Being able to talk to you about work, about why I’m excited or frustrated about a project…it means a great deal to me.”

He took a sip from his wine glass and continued, “Usually, I discuss these things with my agent or Robert or sometimes my parents or friends who are in the business too.  But your perspective is different; you don’t care about the business or the hype or anything but how it affects me, and by extension, us.”

“Ben, I want you to be successful.  And I wouldn’t say I don’t care about the business or the hype, because those are part of the whole package, part of you being successful.  What I want most is for you to be able to pick and choose, to reach a level where you only have to do parts that challenge you, that excite you, and for you to be able to say no to anything that doesn’t.”

“I’m getting there.  I’ve been very, very lucky.”

“Luck will only take you so far if you don’t have the talent to back it up.  And don’t discount how hard you’ve worked.”

“I love you.”

“And you should.  I’m pretty fantastic.”

“Yes,” he kissed me, “you are.”

He cleaned up the kitchen and we watched TV a while longer.  I went upstairs first, had a bath and got into bed to read.  Ben followed a little later, having a quick shower and joining me.  He flopped down, falling across my legs and tilted my book with his finger to read the title, his eyebrows rising as he looked over the top of the book at me.

“Don’t get excited.”

“How can I not?  You’re reading about how to get pregnant.”

“Because it’s just research,” I said, putting the book down, “I’m educating myself for when the time is right.  I’m still not ready to do anything about it until my visa is confirmed.”

 “I know; that’s what we agreed.  But the fact that you’re reading about it is exciting to me.”

“You should read this too.  It’s not all about me and my body you know; you’re going to have to change some things, suffer, too.”

“Such as?”

“All the good stuff like caffeine, alcohol and smoking.”

“No problem,” he said, sitting up, “I’ve given up all of that before, prepping for roles.  And this would be much more important to me, so that’s good incentive.  Anyway, won’t we be too busy having sex all the time to bother with drinking and smoking?”

“We might be.  The jury’s still out on that.  Some doctors say you should only be having sex during ovulation because holding off increases sperm count.” I grinned at his facial expression, “There’s newer research that says that you should have sex as often as you want to because that increases motility.”

“We’re quite a modern couple.  We should probably listen to the newer research.”

I chuckled, “It happens that I agree with you.”

“Would you like to practice some more, you know, just to be sure we know what we’re doing?” He asked, slipping beneath the sheets.

“What a good idea!” I put the book on the nightstand and rolled onto my side, “I’d hate to think we weren’t doing it right.”

“There’s always room for improvement.” He said, reaching out and pulling me on top of him.

I was up early and ready to leave for work before Ben even got out of bed.  I wrote him a silly note covered in hearts and flowers and tucked it under the coffee pot, then headed out the door with a big smile on my face.  The sun was out, so I rode my Ducati to work, parking in the lot behind the office.  I drank coffee and ate breakfast at my desk, getting a couple of hours of work done in the office before packing up and heading back out.  I was still finding myself short-staffed, so I was going out to see a client and get started on putting their garden to bed for the winter.  As I worked, I sang to myself, content to be outside and making good time on what I needed to get done.  I turned over all the flower beds and dug out a section of hedge that was dying, sending myself an email so I’d remember to order a replacement, then hopped on my bike and headed back to the office.

I was almost done for the day when Phil and Marty came in to drop off some time sheets.  We chatted for a while about the amount of work that was still coming in.  Since they were out in the field more than I was nowadays, I relied on them to let me know the state of things, what still needed doing and how long it was going to take them.  None of the staff had been told yet that I was buying the business, but they knew that I was in charge as long as Bev was away and since they still felt I was one of them, one of the employees, they told me flat out that there was too much work for them to handle.

“Yeah, I think we’re going to have to hire someone else,” I agreed, “we’re just not keeping up with demand and I don’t want to start losing clients because we can’t get the work done.  After today though, being back out in the field, I think I’m going to hire someone for the office and then I could go back to mostly gardening again.”

“You thinking full time or part time?” asked Phil.

“Part time to start, at least over the winter and most likely going to full time once spring rolls around.  I need to find someone flexible though, who’s able to do extra hours when I’m away.”

Phil smiled, “My wife’s company is re-locating and she’s being laid off because we’re not willing to move.”

“Isn’t Myra a bookkeeper?”

“Yeah, she does the books and works reception for a medical supply company.  And she knows as much about gardening as I do.”

“When would she be able to start?”

“As soon as the week after next.  Do you want me to have her call you?”

“Yes, a thousand times, yes.  Jesus, a bookkeeper - no more VAT for me!”

“And you’ll talk to Bev, square it with her?”

I took a deep breath and let it out, “Look guys, there’s something you need to know.  I haven’t said anything before now because I’ve been waiting on the paperwork, but Bev isn’t coming back.”

“Because of the accident?  Is she not O.K?” Marty asked.

“She’s fine physically, but since the accident, she’s taken stock and she just feels the timing is right for her to retire.”

“So she’s selling?” They both looked worried.

“Yes,” I grinned, “and I’m buying.”

Their faces lit up and I was thrilled and relieved to see it.  Phil reached over the desk to shake my hand and congratulate me.  I’d been worried that either one or both of them might have been put out; they’d both been with Bev for far longer than I but they seemed genuinely happy for me.

“This is great news; at least we’re keeping it in the family.  I’d hate to think of someone new coming in and making a bunch of changes all at once or something like that.  At least we know you know the business and us.”

“There will be some changes I’m sure, but nothing drastic.  And I’ll talk to you both first.  You’ve been here since the beginning and your opinions matter.  If you aren’t happy, I’m screwed.”

They wanted to take me for a pint to celebrate and since Ben wasn’t going to be home for supper anyway, I went to the pub with them and had a drink and something to eat.  They had more questions and both made some suggestions for some things they might like to see done differently so I took notes and asked questions, glad of their willingness to pitch in.  We said goodnight to Marty at the door and he left to catch his bus home while Phil walked me back to my bike.  We said good bye and Phil said he’d have his wife contact me right away.  I rode home feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, not only because I’d finally told them about buying ‘Down to Earth’ but also at the prospect of getting some help in the office, so I could get back to doing what I loved.

I’d fallen asleep in front of the T.V. and was woken by Ben saying my name and lightly brushing my hair off my face.  I stretched and yawned, rubbing my face with my hands.

“Hi.” I said sleepily, “How did your meeting go?”

“Not as well as I’d hoped, but you’ve just woken up and it’ll keep until tomorrow.  Shall I carry you up to bed?”

I nodded and raised my arms, wrapping them around his neck as he lifted me off the sofa.  He tucked me into bed, went to brush his teeth and I was almost asleep again by the time he undressed and climbed in, curling his body around me with a deep sigh.

In the morning, we had breakfast while he told me about his meeting.

“Neither of them was terribly receptive to what I had to say.  They just don’t seem to be seeing what I’m seeing.”

“Well, how experienced are they?”

“That’s the thing I can’t figure out.  They’ve both been around the block a few times; they’ve each done at least half a dozen films.   I would have thought one of them would understand my concerns with the script, but no.”

“So now what?” I picked up my coffee and took a sip.

“They wanted a couple of days to think about things and we’re getting together again on Monday.  I don’t know Kai; I have a bad feeling about this one.  If they aren’t willing to even discuss re-writes at this stage, it doesn’t bode well for later, when we’re actually filming.  On a project of this size, I’ve come to expect a different atmosphere, one more open to discussion.”

“Well, there’s a reason you had script approval written into your contract.  You don’t have to compromise your artistic integrity for anyone.  If you don’t think the script is worth doing, then don’t do it.”

“The story itself is so great though and I want to work with this director.  Everything of his that I’ve seen has been incredible and that’s why I initially signed on, even before the script was finished.  That’s why I’m so confused now.  Why would he be willing to move forward on this with such a shitty script?”

“Who’s the writer?” I asked.

“I only know her name, I haven’t met her.”

“Ask around.  You know people, so use your resources and find out who she is.  Find out why they’re so invested in using a script that seems substandard to you.  There has to be a reason.”

He looked at me over the table and a smile slowly spread across his face, “I’ll make some calls and see what I can find out.  Once again, common sense comes to the rescue.”

I got up and cleared the table while he sat, drinking his coffee and thinking.  I put my boots and coat on and went to say good bye.  He took my hand and as he twined his fingers in mine the ring on his left hand clinked against the one on my right and he smiled up at me.

“When will you be home?”

“I’m going to try and get back before six, to shower and change.  I’m meeting everyone at the restaurant at seven.  What time are you leaving?”

“Not until about eight, so I’ll see you when you get back.  Don’t forget to send me the address of the gallery, so I have it in my phone, alright?”

“I’ll do it as soon as I get to work.  Kiss me, I have to go.”

Phil’s wife Myra had left a voicemail and I called her back, first thing.  She wanted to come and see me but was still working so we arranged that I’d stay late on Monday and she’d come see me after work.  She insisted on emailing me her CV to go over and even though I trusted Phil and had met Myra before, I was glad she understood that this was still business.  I skipped lunch and was able to get out on time, making my way home through the Friday traffic to get ready to go out.

When I got in I could hear Ben’s voice coming from his office, so I stuck my head around the door and waved at him, on the phone, before going upstairs.  I saw immediately that he’d been shopping because there were several large paper bags sitting on the bed.  I was curious to see what he’d bought himself but was short on time, so went straight into the shower instead. 

I was bent over, blow drying my hair when he came into the bathroom.  I stood up and he offered me a beer.  Taking the bottle from his hand with a smile of thanks, I had a sip.  He remained in the doorway with his hands jammed in his pockets.

“Did you need to talk to me?” I asked over the drone of the hair dryer.

“No, I just like watching you get ready.  You’re really very funny.”

I looked at him, “Funny?”

“Yeah.  It all seems sort of haphazard and then you come out the other end looking gorgeous.”

“Thank you, but haphazard?”

“You blow dry with one hand and put mascara on with the other.  You stop part way through, put on some eye shadow then flip your head upside down to finish your hair before you put on your eyeliner and some lipstick.” He came closer and poked around in my bag of cosmetics, “What I can’t figure out is how you manage it when it looks like you only have about three things in your bag.”

“I hadn’t realized you’d been taking notes.”

“Not taking notes but, you know how you like watching me shave?  I like watching you get ready to go out.”

“I like watching you shave because I find it sexy.” I shut the blow dryer off, set it down and reached up to run my fingers across his cheek, “Watching the way the razor moves over your skin, the sound it makes; the way you tilt your chin up to shave your throat…it makes me hot.”

“That’s what I mean.  I love the way you look without any make-up at all, with your hair down and natural.  But when you’re getting ready to go out, doing your hair, putting on your make-up, even if I find your method baffling,” he grinned when I laughed, “watching the transformation is strangely arousing.”

“Well then, stay and watch, by all means.  But what I can’t figure out is why you know so much about women’s make-up.  Is there something you haven’t told me?”

“I’m an actor.  I’ve probably worn some of this stuff as often as you have.”

“Alright, as long as there isn’t a Ben-sized dress in any of those bags on the bed.”

“No, but when you’re done, I do have something for you.”

“Two minutes?”

“Mm-hmm, I’ll just watch.”

I finished my face and pulled my hair back into a low ponytail then followed Ben into the bedroom.  He passed me one of the shopping bags and sat on the bed.  I took the box out of the bag and set it on the bed, raising the lid.  Reaching in I lifted out a wrap dress, made of the most beautiful coral coloured lace.  I looked at Ben who was watching me, expectantly.

“Ben, it’s lovely.  Thank you.”

“I tried to look for your size in your other dresses, but you’ve cut all the labels out, so I hope it fits.”

I grinned, “I usually cut them out because they itch.”

I put the dress down and went to the drawer to find the right underthings.  Ben stood to help me pull the dress on so I wouldn’t mess up my hair.  He followed me when I went into the closet to look in the full length mirror as I adjusted the tie belt at my waist.  He’d guessed well.  It was a little snug over my boobs, but it was perfect everywhere else and I turned to look at the back.

“I love it. Thank you again.” I put my arms around him.

“You’re welcome my love.  I knew that colour would be stunning on you.  This might look nice with it.” He reached into his pocket and brought out a little blue box.

“Ben…”

He interrupted me, his voice soft, “Don’t.  Don’t tell me it’s too much.  Don’t tell me I’m not allowed to bring you beautiful things when it makes me so happy to see you wear them.  Please Kai, just open it.”

I took the box and untied the white satin ribbon.  Lifting the lid I saw, strung on a gold chain, a small blue topaz disc with gold olive leaf motif across the bottom.  I smiled up at him.

“How can I get mad at you when it’s literally an olive branch?”

“Universal symbol of peace,” he grinned, “so you can’t.  Turn around.”

I faced the mirror and watched as he put the necklace on me.  The stone was nearly turquoise in colour and contrasted perfectly with the colour of the dress, the gold warming against my skin.  He pressed his lips to the side of my neck and put his arms around me, holding me tightly.  He looked up and we made eye contact in the mirror.

“I do love you, you know.” I said, folding my hands over his.

“I know.”

“I wish you wouldn’t keep buying me things though.  You don’t have to.”

“Once I saw the dress I wanted to see it on you.  Once I had the dress, I knew it needed a little something extra.  The last night we were together in Bradford we were talking about you going to more events with me and you’re going to need more clothes.  I just got a head start on the shopping, that’s all.”

“Oh hell, I didn’t even think of that.”

“Charlie did a great job getting you organized for Tom’s premiere…”

I sighed deeply, leaning back against his chest, “Fine.  I’ll talk to him tonight and set a date to go shopping.”

“Good.  That’s sorted then.  I have to get ready myself.”

“I’ll be gone before you’re out of the shower, I’m already late.  You got my text with the address of the gallery?”

“Yes and I’ll try to be there by eleven.”

I turned in his arms and held his face in my hands, kissing him, slipping my tongue between his lips as his hands stroked my back.

“Go,” he groaned, “get out while you still can.”

Laughing, I bent down to grab my shoes and ran downstairs to call a cab.  I was pulling my coat on when Ben called down from the top of the stairs.

“Hey, you’re going to need these.”

He tossed something and I instinctively reached up to catch it.  Another little blue box.

“Oh for Christ’s sake Ben!” 

I could hear his laughter as he walked back into the bedroom, not even staying to watch me open this last gift.  Inside the box were the earrings that matched the pendant.  Grinning, I put them in and ran down to wait for my taxi.

I was the last one to arrive at the restaurant and apologized as I sat down across from Jem.  There were a couple of bottles of wine on the table and Charlie, sitting next to me, asked if I wanted red or white, pouring me a glass from the bottle I pointed to as I said hello to Alice.  Our waiter appeared and passed me a menu.

“Have you all ordered already?”

“Yes,” Leah said, “sorry, but I was starving and I wouldn’t let them wait for you.”

I listened to them chatting as I read the menu, quickly deciding on crab cakes as my appetizer and steak frites for the main.  As I gave my order to the waiter, Alice started to laugh.

“At least you two won’t have to share this time.”

“You’ve ordered the same thing I did.” Jem explained.

“Brother from another mother.” I said and raised my glass to him, “Charlie, why are you staring at me?”

“Nice dress,” he said and reached over to flip my collar and read the label I hadn’t had time to cut out, “thought so.  And your jewelry actually matches.  More to the point, you’re wearing jewelry.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Yes.  You look very nice.  Why wasn’t I invited if you went shopping?”

“I didn’t go shopping, this was all Ben.”

I went on to tell Charlie that I had some events coming up that I needed his expertise to prepare for and we talked about what I was going to need until the appetizers came and I was suddenly ravenous, having skipped lunch.  By the time we’d finished dessert, Alice was getting antsy, checking her watch repeatedly.

“Michael is really nervous about tonight,” she apologized, “does anyone mind if we get going?”

We piled into a couple of taxis and headed to the gallery, arriving just before ten o’clock.  I sent everyone else on ahead and stood outside smoking a cigarette.  I wasn’t particularly looking forward to this part of the evening, being fairly clueless about art and I had only agreed to come because it had seemed so important to Alice.  I found myself wishing I hadn’t been so quick to encourage Ben to go to his other function.  At least if he’d been here, I could have let him do all the talking while I drank wine and tried not to embarrass myself with my ignorance. 

I finished my cigarette and went inside, scooping a glass of champagne off the nearest tray and prepared for a long evening of smiling and nodding.  Listening to the quiet buzz of conversation, I let my eyes wander around the room, trying to get a feel for what was on display and what I saw wasn’t encouraging.  If I had any knowledge about painting at all, it certainly didn’t extend to what I was seeing here.  The majority of the canvases were huge and covered in geometric shapes of different sizes, in bright, happy colours.  There was one that caught my eye and I kept staring at it, feeling like I was missing something obvious but it wasn’t until I squinted, intentionally blurring my vision that I realized that it was in fact, an enormous purple cow standing in a blue and green field.  I turned around, looking across the great, white expanse of the room and squinted at another picture.

“So,” said a deep voice in my ear, “what do you think?”

“I think,” I answered, taking a sip from my glass, “that’s a sheep.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, I believe it is.  And there’s a purple cow behind me.”

“Moo.” He whispered and I burst out laughing, drawing stares from around the room.

I turned and looked up at his smiling face, “You’re early, thank God.”

“I was bored out of my mind and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I’d rather be here with you.”

“I’m so glad.” I ran my fingers down the lapel of his jacket, “Is this new?  The colour suits you.”

“Yes, I got it today and I’m glad you approve.”

Looking past him I said, “Here comes Alice and I think she’s bringing her friend over to meet us.  You go ahead and talk all artsy and shit.  I’m just going to be quiet.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Alice introduced us to Michael, one of the friends she shared studio space with and the artist behind tonight’s exhibition.  He seemed a little star struck initially, but recovered his composure quickly when Ben started asking questions about his work.  I listened, nodding in agreement to show my support and snagged two fresh glasses of bubbly from a passing waiter, handing one to Ben.  I was concentrating on looking interested as Michael explained the themes behind his work when a flash went off to my right and the event photographer began to walk around us, taking more pictures. 

I looked across the room, seeing Leah and Cass talking with a small group and I started to move away to join them when Ben caught me, draping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me close, all without a break in his conversation.  I forced myself to relax, leaning into him and slipping my arm under his jacket, feeling the warmth of him through his shirt.  I smiled, reminding myself that being photographed was something I was going to have to start to get used to.

After a couple more flashes, the photographer moved off, making her way across the room and Ben pressed his lips to my temple in a quick kiss.  I ran my finger down his spine, keeping a completely straight face when he shivered and his hand tightened on my shoulder.  Leah and Cass came over and Alice introduced them to Michael.  As they stood talking, Ben’s hand moved to the back of my neck, his thumb drawing circles on my skin.  I held still, enjoying the contact, letting my hand move slowly on his back and I wondered how soon we could leave without appearing rude.

Michael excused himself to go and mingle with the other guests and the rest of us stood in a circle, chatting.  Cass kept looking around the room, then back to Ben and suddenly she blurted, “Do you ever get tired of always being the centre of attention?  Don’t you think you’re kind of stealing Michael’s thunder on his big night?”

“Cass!” Leah and I said at the same time and Alice’s eyes got huge.

“What?  It’s a valid question.”

“Not when you ask it like that.” Leah snapped.

I was glad she’d answered before I could, because I wouldn’t have been nearly as polite.  I was instantly angry and my protective instinct was taking over.  I felt Ben inhale and exhale slowly before he answered.

“It depends entirely on the situation Cass.” He explained, “Sometimes it’s great fun, on the red carpet, at big events – when you’ve prepared yourself for it ahead of time and you know what to expect.  At something like this, I just have to roll with it; it’s a side effect of being lucky enough to be successful at doing what I love.  The only time I get frustrated,” he went on, his voice dropping low and getting sharp, “is when it intrudes on my real life, when it’s upsetting to someone I care about and then, if I’m being completely honest, I fucking hate it.”  He smiled wearily, “Does that answer your question?”

Cass nodded, and said, “Sorry if you think it sounded rude.”

“Not at all.  Anything else you wanted to know?”

Before she could think of anything, I took a step toward her so I could speak quietly, “I want to talk to you.  Outside, now.”  

As I turned in the direction of the door, Ben put his hand on my arm, “I’ll be right back,” I reassured him.

Cass and I got our coats and stepped out into the cool night air.

“You’re mad at me?”

“Yes and I’m confused by you.  You go back and forth between being happy for me and supportive, being my friend who calls to make sure I know my boyfriend said he loved me in an interview, laughing with me about how strange this all has been and treating Ben like any of our other friends, to this, this sharp, nasty thing you do – what makes you think it’s alright to talk to him like that?”

“It was just a question Kai,” she was glaring at me, “and it’s true.  This isn’t some huge exhibition; it’s just a small gallery.  He had to know that if he came here tonight, he’d be taking all the attention away from the guy whose show this is.  That’s rude too.” 

“He came because he was invited.  He came so he could be with me.  He came because he thought he was part of my circle of friends.  And you’re the only one who doesn’t seem capable of understanding that.  You know what Cass?  I’m sick of explaining myself to you.  I refuse to feel guilty for being happy.  If you can’t get over yourself and accept that then you can go fuck yourself.  We’re done.”

I went back inside without a backward glance, not caring whether she followed or not.  Walking through the gallery toward Ben, Jeremy and Alice, I composed my face, clamping the lid down hard on my emotions.  I knew Alice and Ben had told Jem what had been said and where I’d gone because when I joined them, reaching for Ben’s hand, needing his strength, it was obvious that Jem was furious.

“Where is she?”

“I have no idea.  I told her off and left her outside.” I looked at Ben, “If you’re ready to go, I’ll find Charlie and Leah and say goodnight.”

“Of course.  I’ll bring the car around and meet you out front.”

“Alice, I’m really sorry for the drama.”

“Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t your fault.” Then she smiled at Ben, “Or yours.”  And I could have kissed her.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?” Jem said and I nodded, kissing him on the cheek and saying goodnight.

Leah and Charlie were together and I quickly filled them in and told them we were leaving.  I apologized for making things uncomfortable for them and went outside.  Ben’s car was idling at the curb and I threw myself into the passenger seat.

“Can I smoke?”

“Go ahead.”

I reached into my bag, lit a cigarette and my window slid down a couple of centimetres as Ben obliged me.  I exhaled forcefully, staring out at the lights of the city and for the first few minutes I was just angry.  I was furious at Cass’ behaviour, at the way she’d treated Ben, but just as much at myself for getting emotional and not handling the situation with more grace.  I flicked my cigarette out the window, Ben pushed the button to close it and I just sat quietly, stewing.

When we were nearly home and he still hadn’t said a word I turned to watch his profile as he drove and he slid his hand over to rest it on my leg, giving it a little squeeze.

“I’ve never seen you like that.  The look on your face when you asked her to step outside with you was absolutely terrifying.  If I were her, I’d have been afraid for my life.”

“She should have been.  She hurt you and I wanted to hurt her.”

He smiled, “Fuck, I love you when you’re fierce,” He glanced at me, “But you didn’t have to defend me, I could have ignored it.”

“Put yourself in my shoes for a second.  If someone had been that nasty to me, what would you have done?”

“Ended up on the front page of a tabloid for punching them in the face.”

“Don’t hit the face; you’ll hurt your hand.  Go for the throat, it’s more effective anyway.”

There was a moment of silence and then we both cracked up.

“I don’t even want to know why you know that.” He said, pulling the car up to the house and cutting the engine, “Thank you for defending me.”

I took my seat belt off and turned in my seat, “She was my friend and she was being horrible.  It’s not as though you’d done anything to deserve it either.  If you had, I would have left it up to you to fix it but in this case, I couldn’t just stand there and say nothing while you tried to be polite and not cause a scene.  She attacked you and I wasn’t fucking having it.”

He leaned across the seat and his hand went to the back of my head, holding me as his lips came down on mine, his tongue slipping into my mouth.  I half sighed, half groaned and pushed into him, my hand sliding up his thigh.  We kissed, groping each other in the confines of the car, laughing at the awkwardness as we tried to get to each other and I finally broke away.

“Hurry up, last one in has to be on the bottom.”

I jumped out of the car and ran up the steps with him right behind me.  He shoved my back against the door, his tongue pushing into my mouth as he fumbled with the keys, trying to reach around me to find the lock.  Breathless, I grabbed his hand, taking the keys and turned, shoving the key home and turning the doorknob.  His arms came around me from behind and as we stumbled into the flat together, he kicked the door shut, pushing my chest against the wall and burying his face in my neck.  He licked and sucked, stubble scraping at my tender skin while he pulled my coat off. 

I gasped as his hands grabbed my hips, pulling my ass against his groin and I could feel his hardness through our clothes.  Reaching up, I ran my hands into his hair, holding his mouth to my neck as I ground my ass into him.  His hand roamed across my belly, up my ribs to squeeze my breasts through the lace of my dress.  It wasn’t enough and he slipped his hand inside, his long fingers pressing my flesh as he worked them into my bra, searching for and finding the sensitive tip.  He scissored his fingers closed and I groaned with the raunchy pleasure of it, his mouth sucking loudly at my neck, his hand jammed inside my clothing.  Reaching behind my back with one hand, I found his belt and worked it open, popped the button and stuck my hand into the front of his pants. 

He growled into my ear when I wrapped my fingers around his cock and I felt him thickening, growing in my hand.  He nipped at my earlobe, pulling it into his mouth.  One hand gripped my hip and the other, still inside my bra, squeezed and pulled at my nipple.  My head fell back onto his chest and I made a noise as I pushed his shaft against me, rolling my hips into his groin.

“Hold on, I need a minute.” He sounded wrecked.

Knowing I was the reason he was so worked up was thrilling and I felt a flutter of excitement deep inside my body but he put his fingers around my wrist and pulled my hand away.  He turned me to face him, his mouth suddenly on mine again, our tongues coming together, battling for dominance.  His hands were at my waist, untying my dress and I pulled back, reaching up to unbutton his shirt.  We were both breathing hard, staring into each other’s eyes and I was clumsy in my urgency, struggling to get the second and third buttons open.  I gave up, grasped his lapels in my hands and yanked.  Buttons shot in all directions, bouncing when they hit the floor and his mouth fell open.

“Jesus Christ.” He gathered the fabric of my dress in his hands and pulled it up and over my head, dropping it at our feet.

Taking his hand, I dragged him to the sitting room, pushing him back so he was leaning on the arm of the sofa as he pulled his ruined shirt off.  I sank to the floor in front of him, my hands on his thighs.  I looked up and smiled as he toed his shoes off then I helped him out of the rest of his clothing.  His cock stood high and I wound my fingers around it, warm and firm, holding it to my mouth.  I closed my eyes and brushed the velvet smoothness of the head over my lips, breathing in the familiar, provocative smell of his body.  He reached down and pulled the band from my hair, freeing my curls, sinking his hands into them, and he waited.

I opened my mouth, my tongue barely making contact with his skin and I felt his shaft jump in my hands.  As though I had all the time in the world, as though I wasn’t dying to push him to the floor and climb on top of him, I ran the tip of my tongue along the rim of the head and slowly slid it into my mouth.  For a moment, I held still then I sucked, just until I felt him twitch.  I took him deeper and his hands started to flex on my scalp.  When I had more than half of his length inside me, he dug his fingers into my hair to urge me to take more but I pulled back, making an ‘Uh-uh’ sound in my throat and he stopped immediately, letting his hands go slack.  I let go of his cock, gripped his ass and pulled him to me, letting him know how I wanted him to move, how I needed to feel him thrust into my mouth, slide between my lips, but not letting him have any say at all over what I was doing.  He groaned, equal parts frustration and pleasure but he didn’t argue, didn’t try to push for control and I rewarded him by drawing him deep into my mouth.  I took a breath and sucked my way down to his groin, fighting my gag reflex as he bumped the back of my throat and my mouth filled with saliva.  I worked him with my mouth, dragging my tongue up the underside of his shaft as I moved away, sucking hard as I sank back down; taking him into my throat until he was throbbing between my lips.  I pulled back, my cheeks hollowed, lips tight around him and he groaned again as I slid wetly off him.

“More?” I teased.

Breathing fast, he looked down and me and licked his lips, “I’m not sure.  I’m already doing times tables in my head.”

“Perhaps not then,” I licked at the pearl of liquid that had gathered at his opening and he hissed.

“I need you hard, and soon.” I said; my voice husky with want.

His eyes narrowed and he pulled me to my feet, kissing me, sucking at my lips as he unhooked my bra and pushed my boobs together, dragging his thumbs over my nipples.  I arched my back, pressing my body to his and pushed my underwear down, wriggling free of this last item between us.  He reached down, his hot hands cupping my bum, and he turned us around until I was trapped between his long, lean body and the sofa.  I ran my hand up his chest to caress his neck, felt him swallow against my fingers and I kissed him, hot and wet, messy.  Suddenly, he lifted, tipped me backward and I landed on my back with a surprised squeak, my hips still resting on the arm of the sofa but my feet off the floor.  Before I could raise my legs, Ben did it for me, bringing them together and wrapping his arm tightly around my knees.

He held my legs to one side of his chest and watched my face as he stroked up and down the backs of my thighs with his other hand, tickling, taunting but studiously avoiding contact where I wanted it most.  His cock bumped against my leg and I squirmed, biting my lip.  He’d taken back control completely and I was so turned on I could feel moisture trickling out of me.  His fingers brushed lightly over my pussy and I gasped.

“Fingers?” he asked, using the same teasing tone I had only minutes before.

I slowly shook my head, staring into his eyes but not trusting my voice, begging silently for what I really wanted.  He took his penis in his hand and swept the head over my wet, swollen lower lips.  I held completely still, watching him, seeing his eyelids flutter as he nearly gave in and he took a deep, calming breath.  He rubbed his cock against me and slowly pushed between my thighs until the head of his shaft slid up against my clit and my muscles clenched as jolts of excitement raced through my body.  He rocked back and forth until my toes curled and I was making little involuntary sounds with every breath.

With his arm still around my knees he kept my legs together, my feet in the air and he slowly drew back until his cock was resting against my opening.  He pushed himself into me until his thighs were hard against my ass and he turned his head, rubbing his scruffy face on my calf.

“Squeeze me.” He rumbled and I did.

“Again.”

This time, he groaned and started to move and I nearly cried with relief when his hips undulated, giving me the deep, long strokes that he knew I loved.  The way he held me, I couldn’t move with him the way I wanted to and he knew it, watched me try with a sly smile on his face and he tightened his grip.  He drew back and sank deep, again and again, his thick shaft sliding easily in my heat and I moaned with satisfaction.

Circling his hips, he moved faster, hitting every good spot inside me and my fingers clutched at the sofa beneath me.  He put both arms around my legs, lifting me clear off the arm of the couch and thrusting hard.  The feel, the sound of our bodies coming together was heady, erotic and I was breathing heavily, could feel the heat gathering in my belly as he drove his length into me.   I was nearly there; so close but beginning to feel light-headed from the position I was in, my shoulders pressed into the cushions, the blood rushing to my head.

Ben was grunting with the effort of holding me where he wanted me, grinding himself into me and even now, in my pre-orgasmic haze I fixated on his voice, letting it wash over me, through me.  He ran his hand down the front of my leg and snaked his thumb between my thighs, pressing his hand onto my pubic bone while his thumb slipped wetly over my clit and I was lost.  My back arched as I yelped, my body rigid and shuddering and I saw little points of light on the edges of my vision.  Ben pressed his face to my leg as he clenched his teeth and I felt him coming, throbbing with every spasm as he let go deep inside me.

Still holding my legs, he slowly lowered me down onto the sofa arm and I threw my head back, taking a long, shaky breath.  I looked up at him, my vision slightly blurry and I grinned.

“I nearly fainted.”

“You did not.” He panted.

“Yes, I did.  Not from you – well, not entirely from you, but from all the blood going to my head.”

He frowned, “You’re O.K. now though?”

“I’m better than O.K.  I’m pretty sure my bones have melted.”

He lowered my legs and I pushed myself back, lying flat, catching my breath.  Ben knelt on the floor next to me, his hand caressing my leg.

“You’re just saying that so I’ll carry you up the stairs.  I’m not honestly sure I could at this point.”

“No, I’m saying it because it’s how you made me feel.  And if you can’t carry me, I’ll just sleep here.”

“That’s blackmail,” he grinned, “you know I don’t sleep if you’re not with me.”

I shrugged, “Not my problem, I’ll sleep fine.”

“Jesus you’re awful.”

He slid one arm under my shoulders and the other under my knees and pulled me off the couch.  He held me close, his muscles tensed and he rocked forward.  And stopped.  I burst out laughing.

“Oh my god!”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, laughing with me, “I don’t think I can.”

“Put me down,” I kissed the end of his nose, “I can walk.”

“Just give me a second and I’ll try again.  Really, if I can’t pick you up…it’s emasculating.”

I stared at him, “Are you fucking kidding me?  Ben, you just gave me an orgasm so powerful that I almost lost consciousness.  I should be carrying you up the stairs.”

“That wasn’t the orgasm; it was because I hung you upside down for 15 minutes.”

“Semantics.  Put me down my love and I’ll get us something to drink and meet you in bed.”

“Do we have any ice cream?”

“I think so.”

“Bring that too.”

I put the ice cream and a spoon on a tray and poured a couple of glasses of water.  When I got upstairs, he was wearing a pair of pajama pants and he took the tray from my hands, passing me the matching top.

Not long after, I was leaning on a pile of pillows, feeding ice cream to Ben who was lying on his back with his head on my lap.  I could tell that, even as we were having a light, silly conversation about some of the paintings we’d seen earlier, his thoughs were elsewhere, on something more serious. 

“Your mind is not on paintings.  What are you thinking about?”

He looked up at me, “What makes you think I’m thinking about anything?”

I pressed my finger lightly between his eyebrows, “This little line right here tells me there's something on your mind.”

“I’m starting to think this whole reading each other’s faces thing is overrated.”

“If you’re thinking about work, I won’t be offended.  I already got what I wanted from you.  I could just go to sleep.” 

Grinning, I ate a spoonful of ice cream as he shot me a look.

“Funny you should say that.  It’s not work.  I’m thinking about you, about us.”

“What about us?”

“I’m going to suggest something but I don’t think you’re going to like it.  Hell, I don’t like it.” He exhaled heavily, “I’m not even sure how to say this.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” I said, wondering at the seriousness that had suddenly come over him.  I kept stroking between his eyebrows, the line there even more pronounced now, “Tell me what you’re thinking and we’ll figure it out together.” I continued, encouraging him to talk to me.

He turned his head to look directly at me, “I think we should stop having sex.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to say thank you to my BetaKat, for her eagle-eyed observations, helpful 'suggestions' ;) and for keeping me on track when I'm almost 100% sure my head's going to explode.


	23. How Can Less Be More?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben thinks their relationship has gotten too physical.  
> Kai thinks he's wrong.  
> Surely there's a middle ground. Right? Right?

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 23 – How Can Less Be More?

 

“I think we should stop having sex.” He said.

I snorted with laughter, “Us?  Please.”

He said nothing and I realized he meant it.

“But I don’t want to.  Why would we do that?”

He sat up, crossing his legs, “Look, this has been on my mind for a while, but I hesitated to bring it up in case I was just overthinking things.   Kai, do you ever think, maybe, we might be compensating for something with the amount of sex we have?”

I could feel the look of scepticism on my face, “No.  I have sex with you because I love it.  It feels good and it makes me feel close to you.  It never occurred to me that it might be more complicated than that.”

He sighed deeply and I could see he was struggling, his eyes darting around the room, everywhere but on my face.  If he really was serious, I wanted to give him room to explain whatever it was that had made him suggest abstinence in the first place, so I waited.

“You were reading that pregnancy book the other night and you said that some doctors think you should limit when and how often you have sex.”

“Yeah and you didn’t look very impressed when I said it.”

“I know, but it made me think, again, and not just about you getting pregnant but about our sex life in general.  So did last weekend when you didn’t want to because you were sore and just for a second when you said it, I was shocked and, if I’m being honest, a little hurt because I’m not used to you saying no to me.” 

He frowned, his look of concentration keeping me quiet in spite of the questions now racing through my mind.

“Do you remember the day I asked you to move in with me?”

“Yeah, I might have some memory of the best day of my life.”

He looked up and smiled sweetly but there was still something darker behind his eyes.

“We talked about how our relationship began; all the talking on the phone when I was away working.  You pointed out that up ‘til then, until the day I came home, we’d really only had short periods of time together, intense and very much physical.”

I thought back to that conversation.

“I said we couldn’t sustain a real relationship on just our physical connection, regardless of how compatible we are in that department.”

“Exactly.”

“But Ben,” I put the ice cream on the nightstand, my hands chilled from more than just holding the container, “when I said that, you told me you thought our connection was more than just sexual.  You agreed with me about all the time we’d spent talking, that there are so many more parts to our relationship, non-physical parts that draw you to me and vice versa.  You’re the one who said we should stop waiting and just leap.  It was your idea to move in together.”

“I know, and I’m not saying I regret any of it.  I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He leaned forward and folded my hands in his, “but that was when we’d spent more time away from each other than together and it was – it still is – so hard to be without you.  Now that I’m home and I’m going to be here more or less for the next couple of months it’s giving me time to catch my breath.  And I’m thinking that the only time we’ve focussed on just the emotional and intellectual parts of our relationship has been when I was away.  As soon as we’re together again, we’re all over each other.”

“I fail to see how that’s a bad thing.  I love that we can’t keep our hands off each other; how all I have to do is look at you and I want you.” I leaned back against the headboard, crossing my arms over my chest, “You’re making it sound like we never talk, like we’re just having hot monkey sex all the time.  Ben, we talk constantly.  For Christ’s sake, the only time we shut up is when we’re screwing.  No, not even then – sometimes we have whole conversations in the middle of the action.  Now you’re saying you think we’re neglecting the other parts of our relationship and I have to say, I’m baffled by that.” 

He sat back and took a breath, then shrugged slowly, “I don’t know, maybe I’m imagining things, looking for trouble where there isn’t any.”  He tried to smile, “You’re probably right.  Look, forget I said anything, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

But I was watching his face and I could tell he wasn’t really convinced.  He looked confused, uncertain.  It occurred to me that if I didn’t push him, make him explain his reasoning to me that this wouldn’t just go away and we’d only be postponing the inevitable – he’d keep stewing over it until it drove him crazy.

“Ben,” I pushed a lock of hair off his forehead, “Just because I’m disagreeing with you doesn’t mean I don’t want to know what’s going on in your head.  We need to get to the bottom of it because if it’s important to you, it’s important to me.” 

Just then, a thought popped into my head, “Is this because of what happened tonight with Cass?  You said you liked seeing me worked up like that but are you second guessing?  Did it throw you, seeing me get angry like that?”

“No.” He shook his head, “Well, not that part of it.” He moved closer again, placing his hands on my knees, “It was a side of you I’ve never really seen before and it surprised me.  I meant it though when I said I loved it; how protective you were, that spark of fury.  It was sexy as hell.  But here’s the thing that’s got me thinking – it was a very emotional evening and we both felt the tension, the anger and how did we handle it?  We didn’t sit down and talk about it until we were both calm and cool headed.  Instead, we went at each other like a couple of wild animals because we both needed the release.  Tonight isn’t the only time we’ve done something similar.” I watched his hands as he counted on his fingers, “Just before I left for New Orleans; when I was upset about going back to Venezuela.  The night we had supper with Jem and Alice and I told you I was jealous.  Those are just the ones that are jumping out to me but there are more, other times when instead of continuing to talk about what we were feeling, what was really going on, we got physical instead.”

Frowning, I tried to follow his train of thought and make sense of it.

“Kai, my love,” he spoke softly, leaning in to take my face in his hands, “look at me, please.  What I’m saying is that when I was out of the country, we concentrated on listening to each other, on getting to know each other on a deeper level.  We had to focus on talking to each other, telling each other how we felt and why.  We did it then because it’s all we could do; it’s all we had.  But it’s different when we’re together, in the same room.  My worry is that because we’re so distracted by our physical connection when we’re together that maybe we’re not paying enough attention to the rest of our relationship.”

Reaching up, I took his hands and he went quiet, letting me think.  I was silent for a long time, attempting to process what he had said.  I was trying to untangle my first, emotional reaction, which felt an awful lot like rejection, from the logic of what he was proposing.  I needed to be sure exactly what he was seeing as a problem.

“So, you think we rely too much on sex.  That we’re using it as a substitute for what exactly?  Because it’s not as though when we have an argument or when one of us is upset we don’t talk about it.  And I think it’s a lot more difficult to discuss something rationally when we’re still all worked up.  I feel like it’s easier to talk about things that are troubling us or something emotional after we’ve made love, when we’re not only calmer and more relaxed but we feel connected and open, trusting.  Help me out here Ben, because I’m having trouble understanding how, now that you’re finally home for a significant period of time and we can be together as much and as often as we want to, that you think it’s somehow making our relationship weaker.”

“I don’t know that it is.  But I need you to try to understand - please Kai - I need to be sure.” He sighed, “Often, it all seems perfect and I do love you so, so much.  But what if our perception of each other, of what this is, is being clouded by our bodies, by our physical compatibility?  I worry that maybe sometimes, instead of taking the time to figure out what the root of a problem is; we jump straight to sex.  Yes, it makes us feel close and connected and it relieves tension, calms us down as you said.  But what if we’re confusing understanding each other’s bodies for understanding each other’s minds?”  He looked uncomfortable but kept going, “What if, because it’s so good and it always seems to work for us, we’re ignoring or not seeing any deeper problems?  Jesus, the thought of that scares the hell out of me.  But it’s simple enough to find out if there’s anything to it by taking a break, just for a little while.” 

I stared into his eyes, trying so hard to see his side, to make sense of his argument.  I was, frankly, pissed off that he’d been feeling this way and never mentioned it until now, until he’d come to a place where not sleeping together at all somehow made sense to him.

“I’m not seeing it Ben.  It’s not logical.   When we make love, the way I am with you isn’t only about how you make my body feel; it’s about how I trust you, how I know you, how _every single part_ of who you are touches a part of me.  I wouldn’t feel what I feel if it weren’t for that.  How could the sex possibly be as good as it is if we aren’t connecting on other important levels as well?”

He looked at me for a long time, his fingers warm on my cold hands, and it was so clear to me how seriously he was taking this, how much it meant to him to have me understand the point he was trying to make.

“The more I’m with you, the more I want you…when I said that, you sort of joked about feeling that way, about being addicted to me and I understand, I feel it too but honestly Kai, that’s exactly what scares me.  What if the physical part of us is taking over at the expense of the emotional part?  What do we do then, if for whatever reason we don’t have that physical connection anymore?” And suddenly, his tone changed and he sounded so small, so unsure, that I thought my heart would break, “I need to know that we’re more than that because it may not last forever and if it goes away, I need to know that the rest of me will be enough for you.” He stared down at our linked hands, “I need us to do this because I have to be sure in my heart that you want all of me.  That I’m really who you want, body, mind and soul.” 

“Oh Ben, you ridiculous man.”

I sat forward and wrapped my arms tightly around him, trying now to reassure him. If he was afraid of anything, I wanted to take that fear from him, even if the thought of him having doubts about our strength as a couple frightened me more than I could have put into words.   But it was the last thing he’d said that had clarified for me what was at the heart of his worry.  I didn’t doubt at all that he believed what he’d said about our using sex as a distraction and there may even have been some truth to that.  It was when he’d said he needed to be sure that he was really what I wanted that I thought I knew what was going on.

“You told me on my birthday that you’ll still love me even when I’m white haired and wrinkly and I know that’s true.  What makes you think I don’t feel the same way?  I don’t expect us to still be jumping each other twice a day when we’re 75 but I think we’re lucky that for now at least, we can’t even be in the same room without needing to be close.  The way you make me weak in the knees, knowing that I can render you speechless with a touch, is one of the great joys in my life.  But it’s only a part of why I love you.” I kissed his cheek and then, gently, his lips, “When I told you you’re everything to me, I meant it.  You make me think.  You make me laugh.  You make me feel safe and loved and you make me feel like I can do anything because you believe I can.  I’m already sure I want all of you.  I know you’re the one, the only one for me.” I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat and my voice cracked, “I’ve always said I’d do anything for you.  If you need to take a step back, if you need to test us…if that’s what you need to be sure then we’ll do it, we’ll take a break.”

“Kai,” He leaned in close and pressed his mouth to mine, soft, like a blessing, “I’m so sorry.  How could I possibly doubt you?”

“My love,” I stroked his cheek, “I don’t think it’s me you doubt.”

He looked down, his forehead creasing as he frowned and I lifted his chin to make him look at me, “Whatever you need to help you understand that you are more than enough for me in every way, I’ll give it to you. Whatever I have to do to make you see, I’ll do it.”  Running my thumb over his lips, I said lightly, “I’m going to make you so sorry you ever opened this can of worms Cumberbatch, you’ll be begging me to go back to the way it was.”

“I think I can live with that.” He said quietly.

“This ‘no sex’ thing doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to touch you at all, does it?”

He shook his head and smiled wearily, “God no, that would be unbearable.  I don’t think this has to be about not expressing how we feel, it’s more that we have to try and see what we’re like together when we don’t take the…well, the easy way.”

I smiled back, putting on a brave face for him, “Alright then.  I’m tired, can we go to sleep or do you have any more bombs you’d like to drop?”

“No, I just had the one.” He sounded exhausted.

“As if that one weren’t enough.” I grinned, trying to seem like my normal self and to not let him see how badly shaken I was, “Get in,” I said, pulling back the sheets and putting his pillows back on his side of the bed, “and put your arms around me.  Tomorrow, we can set some ground rules.”

It was killing me that beyond all his seemingly logical reasoning, I felt it was his insecurity that had led him to think he could ever not be enough for me.  I wasn’t actually feeling the ease I was showing him, but he needed to see how sure I was of him, of us.  Not just in this but in everything.  He had supported me when I was afraid, had laid to rest my doubts about a pregnancy, been there with me to fight my dragons and I would do the same for him.

“Ground rules?” He asked, getting comfortable on his back.

“Oh yes.” I draped my arm over his waist, “You’re going to have to be very specific too,” I said with false bravado as he reached over to turn out the light, “Because if you leave any loopholes, I’ll find them.”

He chuckled and kissed the top of my head as he wound his fingers into my hair, “Thank you, for understanding.” He said into the dark.

Squeezing my eyes tightly shut as tears pricked my eyelids, I answered, “Of course I understand.”

I was sitting at the table when he came down in the morning.  I said good morning and he yawned in response, his long fingers scratching at his scalp.

“There’s coffee in the pot,” I said, “and I’m going grocery shopping.  Is there anything you want?”

He stirred his coffee for ages, his face blank.

“Hello?” I smiled.

“Sorry,” he gave himself a shake, “I’m not really awake yet.  I didn’t sleep very well.”

“I know.  Even when you did fall asleep, you were all over the place.  I finally got up after the second time you kicked me awake.”

“Shit, really?  Sorry.”

“If you didn’t do it on purpose, you don’t need to apologize.  I’m going to get dressed.” I said, standing up, “If you think of anything you want, put it on the list.”

As I walked past him, he stopped me, his arm snaking around my waist and his lips brushed my cheek on their way to my ear, “Good morning.” He said quietly.

I smiled up at him, “Good morning Ben.”

He looked at me for the longest time, searching my face for something.  Reassurance, I thought.  Twice he was about to speak and stopped short; the third time, as he took a breath, I reached up, pressing my fingers to his lips.

“Drink your coffee, have a shower or read the paper.  We’ll talk when I get home from the store, alright?”

He nodded and I squeezed his hand as I unwrapped his arm from my waist and I went upstairs.  I dressed quickly and headed back down to the kitchen.  He was reading the paper and I picked up the list.

“More ice cream?” I asked.

“Yes, more ice cream.  And could you get some crisps too?”

“Sure.” I grinned, “Anything not full of fat or sugar?”

“No.  In fact, just get me a pound of butter and some treacle.”

I burst out laughing and he smiled up at me.  I ran my hand through his hair and kissed him on the forehead, relieved to see him looking a bit more relaxed, to see some lightness returning to his eyes.

When I got back I found a note saying he’d gone for a run.   Jem had texted me while I was driving home so I called him back, put him on speaker and we talked while I put the groceries away and made a salad. 

“Alice is going home to visit her Mum so I have some free time on my hands.  What are you doing on Monday?”

“I’m working, but why don’t you come over for supper and bring your guitar?  Ben’s rehearsing all day and he has a meeting afterward, so we’d have the place to ourselves to work on some new songs.”

“Yup, works for me.”

“Good; I’m interviewing a possible new bookkeeper but I should be back no later than half past six.  I’ll call you if I get hung up.”  I hesitated and then asked, “Have you heard from Cass?”

“She’s not returning my calls but Leah talked to her this morning.  She’s standing her ground and said didn’t think she’d done anything wrong but Leah thinks she’s putting up a false front and isn’t ready to back down yet.”

I sighed, “She’s entitled to her opinion, but I’m still not O.K. with how she spoke to Ben or with the way she’s been treating me lately either.  I just don’t want to make things awkward for everyone else.”

“Don’t worry about that, no one thinks you or Ben did anything to cause this.  She’ll come around or she won’t.  If she’s going to act like an asshole though, she’ll find she’s no longer invited to join us when we all get together.”

I didn’t want to be the cause of a rift in our tight group of friends but even so, it was good to hear that I had their support.  Jem and I said goodbye and I was just hanging up as Ben came through the front door, breathing hard as he kicked his shoes into the closet.

“Good run?”

“Yeah, it was actually.  I started out a bit slow but ended up doing almost 8k,” he said, pulling his ear buds out.

“Keep taking your sexual frustration out in exercise and by this time next week you’ll have doubled that.  I’d done 10 kilometres before you got out of bed this morning.”

“It hasn’t even been 24 hours Kai,” he said with a dubious grin, “I hardly think sexual frustration has anything to do with it yet.”

“Let’s wait and see.  Depending how long you’re planning on holding out on me, I may start training for a triathlon.”

“I don’t know how long,” he said, crossing the kitchen and putting his arms around my shoulders, “I guess that’s one of the ground rules we need to discuss.”

“Yeah,” I said, “I guess it is.  Could you have a shower first?”

“Sorry, do I stink?”

“Quite the opposite, you’ve got that fresh sweat smell, like you do…after.  You’re killing me.  Go away.” I poked him in the belly with my finger.

He held his hands up and slowly backed out of the kitchen with a smile on his face.  I knew how serious this was to him or he never would have suggested it or worked so hard to convince me it was necessary.  I was going to be treading a very fine line for the next little while.  Honouring the spirit of our agreement, letting him see how important it was to me to give him whatever assurances he needed to believe in the truth of everything he meant to me and still maintaining my sense of humour without being too flippant, which he hated.  For the time being, I couldn’t let him see that his doubts had me rattled.  I’d find a way to explain it to him eventually, but for now I had to be calm and in control, for him.

While he showered, I finished making lunch and carried it outside to the terrace.  The light breeze carried the smell of the herbs from the planters, and the late fall sunshine was warm on my skin.  I stretched with my hands above my head and took some deep breaths, then slowly bent forward, palms touching the wood beneath my feet.  I held the position for a few seconds and was just standing up when I heard a sound from behind me.  I looked over my shoulder as, with a strangled groan, Ben scrubbed his eyes with his fingers.

“Christ, this is going to be harder than I thought.”

I grinned, “That’s what she said.” 

“Grow up,” he laughed.

“I’m going to have to put a bell on you, to avoid being caught out in compromising positions.”

“The problem is,” he said, leaning on the door frame, “that as far as I’m concerned, everything you do is compromising.  But that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is.  There’s a jug of Pimm’s in the fridge.  If you’ll bring it out, we can eat.”

We sat in the sun, having lunch and I questioned him.

“So…the first thing I want to know is, how long?”

“I’m not sure exactly.  However long it takes for us to be sure.”

“Not us,” I corrected gently, “You.”

“Really?  You have no doubts at all after everything I said last night?  After I explained why I think it’s important for us to do this?”

“No, I don’t.  You’ve made it clear what you think and why you think it, but I don’t agree that it’s a problem.  I don’t have to though.  It doesn’t matter how firmly I believe you’re wrong,” I put my hand over his, “Obviously my telling you how I feel about you isn’t going to convince you of it any more than your explanation of what you think we’re doing wrong is going to convince me that it’s true.  That’s why I agreed to this.  If it’s the only way for you to get it through your great big, thick skull that I’m committed to you – every bit of you, warts and all – then it’s what we have to do.”

The way he looked at me made my stomach flip and I swallowed hard, tamping down my natural instincts because they went completely against what we had agreed to.  While I disagreed with his argument that we used sex as a buffer, in place of talking through things we were worked up about, I had to admit that he was right about one aspect.  I wanted him all the time.  I still didn’t think there was anything wrong with that, but I also knew it wouldn’t kill me to not get what I wanted, every time.

“A month?” He suggested.

My mouth dropped open.

“You’re joking.”

“No.  What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.  But; a whole month?”

“Alright, three weeks then.” He offered.

“Ten days.” I countered.

He was trying not to smile, “Two weeks, to start with.  Then we’ll see where we are.”

“Fine, two weeks.” I grumbled, “But with an option to renegotiate at any time after a 5 day trial period.”

“You’ve been spending entirely too much time with lawyers.”

“Oh shit!  I completely forgot I have lawyers!”

“Too late now, we have a verbal contract.”

I pretended to spit into my palm and held my hand out to him.  Grinning, he extended his hand and we shook.

“Let’s finish eating and get out of here for a while.  I need a distraction.”

“Good idea.  We have a few hours to kill before we have to leave.”

I was puzzled, “Leave for where?”

“It’s Saturday, we’re going to Oliver and Victoria’s anniversary party.”

I stared at him blankly and watched as the realization that I had no idea what he was talking about came over his face.

“Did we not talk about this?”

“I’m fairly certain I’d remember if we had.  How long have you known about it?”

“Ages.  At least a month I think.”

“Jesus.  Alright, after lunch we’re going to a store and buying that goddamn calendar and we’re going to spend tomorrow putting everything on it so this doesn’t happen again.  Have you got them a gift?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it covered; you just need to sign the card.  Fuck, I can’t believe I never talked to you about this.”

“At least I don’t have to worry about what to wear since I have that new dress; although, it probably needs ironing after last night.”

“At least you can wear it again.  I had to throw my shirt out.”  He smiled and his eyes sparkled.

“Can we change the subject please?” I asked, trying to ignore the the little thrill in my belly as I remembered how it had felt, literally tearing the clothing from him.

“Yes, sorry.  You said we need ground rules.”

“I did, yes.” I thought for only a second, “Rule number one, no Benedict voice.”

“That’s just my voice.  How am I supposed to not do that?”

“It is not your regular voice and you know it.  Besides, you know what I mean; you can’t do that thing, get all dark and demanding like in the parking lot at the hotel.  It’s not fair.”

“I see your point.  Alright, agreed.  I have a request.  Could you wear pajamas?”

“Aww, really?  I hate wearing clothes to bed.”

“I know but, I just can’t…” He stabbed a forkful of lettuce, “look, I don’t want to have to sleep in the spare room.”

“No, I don’t want that either.”

“Sleeping separately would sort of defeat the purpose of this.”

“Fine, I’ll wear something to bed.  What else?”

He chewed thoughtfully, “Bergamot.  Can you use something different for a while?”

“God, we really are sad.  Yes, I suppose so.  My turn – stop shaving.”

He chuckled, “Did you really hate my beard that much?”

“In the end, no, not really, but I still prefer you smooth faced.  I just think it might be easier if I don’t have to see or hear you shaving.” I continued brightly, “And my Dad has a beard, so maybe I can think of that when I look at you.”

“Oh my god, Kai, that’s horrible.” He said, laughing in disgust.

“Look, this whole thing was your idea.  As far as I’m concerned, you should do absolutely anything I ask to help me get through it.”

Our whole conversation had been fairly easy and light hearted but suddenly, his face crumpled and his head dropped.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?  Most men I know would give a kidney to be with a woman like you.  Someone who could make them feel what you make me feel, who responds the way you do, who gives herself the way you do.  And now I tell you I think it means there’s something wrong.”  He dragged his hands through his hair then slapped them down on his legs in frustration, “You’ve done nothing to make me question this, us, so why am I?”

His hands were under the table and I could hear his palms running up and down his thighs.  I stood up, went behind his chair and put my arms around him, resting my chin on his shoulder.  His body was tense as he waited for me to speak.

“I wish I knew the answer to that.  I wish I could tell you why and make it go away and give you some peace.  But we’ll figure it out.  I’m not going anywhere, no matter how long it takes, no matter what.  I love you, you idiot.”

I felt him laugh and his hands came up to rest on my forearms where they sat on his chest.  He turned his head and I kissed him.  I didn’t hold back either, not because I was trying to tempt him or change his mind but because I wanted him to know we could still be close without succumbing.  He hummed against my lips.

“I can feel you smiling.” He said, opening his eyes.

I moved to sit on his lap and he put his arms around me.

“When you make that sound,” I said, “it reminds me of the evening we met.  You were so sweet and patient that night.”

“Patient?  Jesus, it was all I could do not to throw you down on the floor of the sitting room and have you right there.” He reached up to stroke my cheek, “From the moment we met, you’d been so funny and strong and confident…then suddenly you looked, not scared but… unsure.   I couldn’t stand it.  We barely knew each other but I needed you to see how beautiful and exciting I found you.”

“Hmm, you wanted me to see what you saw so I wouldn’t feel insecure?  I wonder what that’s like?”

He squinted up at me, a smile tugging the corner of his lips up, “Fair point.  I’ll keep it in mind over the next couple of weeks.”

“Yes, do.  What time do we have leave tonight?”

“The invitation said cocktails at seven.”

“O.K, help me carry all this stuff in and we can get out of here for a couple of hours.”

We cleaned up and went out to buy a calendar so we could get our schedules sorted.  We parked the car and walked down toward a bookstore that Ben said would probably have what we were looking for.  The streets were busy with Saturday shoppers and Ben and I held hands, stopping occasionally to look in store windows.  As we crossed the street he began to walk quickly, pulling me by the hand.

“Hey, where’s the fire?” I asked, coming to a stop in the middle of the pavement.

“I thought I saw someone I recognized.  Paparazzi.”

“And?”

His eyes were scanning the street, “I didn’t want you bothered.”

“I’ve told you, it doesn’t bother me when we’re together.  It’s when I’m by myself that I don’t particularly like it, but even then,” I smiled up at him, “it’s part of the deal.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and we started to walk again.

“You seem to have made peace with the idea.  I’m glad.  I know it’s not easy to get used to.”

“What’s the alternative?  Should we waste our time trying to hide or let them see us get angry?  There’s no point because if they want the pictures they’ll get them regardless of what we do.  Anyway, if all we’re doing is walking down the street, shopping, how interesting is that to anyone?  They’d probably make more money off ones where we’re doing something stupid, like, say, giving them the finger as we drive away.”

“That picture of you does seem to get used a lot, doesn’t it?” He said, “How’d you get so smart?”

“Oh it’s easy for me to say, I’ve only been dealing with it for a couple of months.  It’s been happening to you for years, so the perspective is different.”

He gave me a little squeeze as he opened the door of the bookstore and we went in.  I went to find a calendar and Ben wandered off to browse.  I found what I was looking for, a plain 2 year office calendar with big, open squares so there’d be lots of room to write in and I grabbed a few highlighting pens too.  I found Ben in the European history section reading the fly leaf of a book.  I slid out the two he was already holding under his arm to see what he was buying.

“More history of the Czech republic?”

“Doing research helps me to get to know my character.”

I held one of the books up, “You already have this one.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, you nut; it’s sitting on your nightstand.”

“Ah.” He looked sheepish, “I’ll just put it back then, shall I?”

“Good idea.  It’s not like we need spares lying around.”

“We could read it at the same time and having rousing debates about the Bohemian Revolt and the Thirty Years War.” He said as we walked toward the cash register.

“I’ve read it.”

“You have not.”

“I finished the book I was reading last week and was too lazy to get out of bed and look for anything else.  I read it by default.”

“And?  What did you think?”

“It was fantastic.  Put me right to sleep.”

Chuckling, he put his books on the counter and I added the calendar and pens, reaching for the debit machine before he could.  He tried to take it from me and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Smiling, he took a step back, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

We walked back to the car and when he pulled his keys from his pocket, I snatched them from his hand, clicking to disable the alarm.  I opened the passenger door and with a sweep of my arm, indicated he should get in.

“My car…”

“Don’t care.  You can drive tonight if you like.”

He stood between the open door and the seat, looking down at me.

“Give me a kiss.”

He bent and pecked me on the mouth.

“Another please.”

He slipped his hand around the back of my neck and kissed me again, the tip of his tongue just touching my lip.

“That one was pretty good.” I said.

“I’m getting in the car now.”

“Suit yourself.” I shrugged and went around to the driver’s door.

By the time we got home it was time for me to start getting ready for the party.  My new dress was wrinkled from spending the night in a ball on the floor of the front entry and I set up the iron before jumping into the shower.  When I came out 15 minutes later, Ben was standing at the ironing board, humming to himself as he pressed my dress.

“Thank you.  Of all the nice things you’ve done for me, this is right near the top.  I can’t stand ironing.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, sliding the dress off the ironing board and turning to put it on the bed, “it’s one of those ‘couple’ things.”

“I can dry my hair out here if you want to get in the shower.”

“You don’t have to.  I can handle it if we’re in there at the same time.”

“Good for you.  I can’t.  Besides, the steam will turn my hair to fuzz.  I’ll look like a dandelion.”

I grabbed the blow dryer and my makeup from the bathroom as he turned the water on and I dried my hair and did my face while he showered. 

He was in the closet, getting dressed as I stood in front of an open drawer, contemplating which underwear to put on.  In the end, it didn’t matter that he wasn’t going to see it; I still wanted to feel pretty and chose one of the matching sets I’d bought when I’d been shopping with Charlie.  I tossed the bra and panties onto the bed and walked into the closet to get my shoes.  Ben was just pulling his shirt on.  I turned on my heel and went back to the bedroom, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, “Get a hold of yourself.”

“Did you say something?” he called.

“Can you bring me my gold strappy shoes when you’re done in there please?”

I took my clothes into the bathroom to get dressed.  I couldn’t stop picturing him in my mind, chest bare, slacks unbuttoned with the faint line of hair below his belly button.  I gave my head a shake and forced myself to concentrate.

I pulled the front of my hair back into a knot, leaving the back down and put on my underwear.  I had just picked up my dress when he pushed the door open, coming into the bathroom with my shoes.

“Let me help.” He said, crouching down and holding the dress for me to step into.

He slipped the dress over my hips and I slid my arms in as he pulled it up.

“This isn’t going to be easy.” He acknowledged.

“No, it’s not.” I agreed, looking at him in the mirror, “You think we have a problem with giving in to our sexual instincts too easily.  If you’re right, this’ll be difficult.  On the other hand, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the way we’ve been doing things and if I’m right, this will be difficult.  And either way, it’s going to take some time before we know.”

His hands dropped to rest on my hips, “I’m sorry.”

I turned, putting my arms around his neck, “You have to stop apologizing, there’s no need and honestly?  Every time you say you’re sorry, I feel like I’m doing something wrong.  I’m not going to act like suddenly I don’t find you attractive just because you need to know that I don’t only love you for your body and pretty face and that voice.”  I ruffled his hair, “I won’t pretend being near you has no effect on me.  But my love, you’re so much more to me than that.  Two weeks or a month or a year; as long as it takes for you to realize it, I’ll wait.  It took my whole life for me to find you and now that I know it’s possible to feel this way, to love like this?  I’d wait for you forever if I had to.”

He looked into my eyes for the longest time and he swallowed hard before saying, “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes Ben.  Yes I would, because what we have is worth it.”

He folded me into his arms and held me tightly against his chest.  I turned my head and listened to the comforting beat of his heart, let it steady me.  I was fucking miserable but I’d be damned if I’d let him see it because I’d meant every word I’d said.  It would take more than his insecurity to make me doubt what we had and if I had to be the strong one this time, for him, I’d do it.

“Alright,” he said, kissing the top of my head, “Finish getting ready and I’ll go call us a cab.”

Oliver opened the door when we rang the bell and rudely elbowed Ben out of the way to hug me hello.  Helping me to remove my jacket, he wolf whistled and told me I looked gorgeous.

“You’re so good for my ego Oliver.”

Ben frowned, “I said you looked lovely before we left the house.”

“It’s different when I do it,” Oliver grinned as he hung our coats up, “she knows I have no ulterior motive.”

“I don’t…when I…fuck off Ollie.” Ben groused.

As we laughed, I turned and scanned the group of people in the room across from us.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

“What’s wrong?” Ben asked and Oliver looked at me with concern.

“Normally, I couldn’t care less if someone else was wearing the same dress I am, but why did it have to be the supermodel?” I asked, indicating the tall, impossibly slender blonde.

She was wearing the same lace wrap dress I was, but in periwinkle blue and hers skimmed her slim body everywhere mine clung to my curves.  She must have been six feet tall and the way she leaned on the fireplace mantle, she looked like a magazine ad.

“Christ,” Ben said quietly, “That’s Helena.”

Helena.  Victoria’s friend who Ben had been seeing when we’d met.  I looked at her again then looked up at Ben.  I grinned.

“Well.  This oughta be fun.”

“I didn’t think.  I should have warned you she was coming.” Oliver apologized.

“Don’t worry about it Ollie.  She’s Victoria’s friend, we were bound to meet eventually.” I said.

“Why don’t you come through and I’ll get you an enormous glass of wine?”

We followed him into the room and heads turned in greeting at our entrance.  I was happy to see a few familiar faces in the crowd.  David and Elise were there, as were Melanie and Kieran from the dinner party where I’d first met Ben’s friends. 

Oliver did a group introduction as he picked up a bottle of wine, “Most of you know Ben and this is his partner, Kai.  Now, who needs a top-up?”

Ben and I took our glasses and looked for a place to sit.  There were about a dozen people and the seating was limited so I took advantage and perched on the arm of the sofa next to Elise.  Ben took up a protective post beside me and I felt his hand come to rest in the small of my back, warm and reassuring.  Elise introduced me to the woman next to her, Catherine, telling her I was the one who’d done all the work on their garden.  Catherine was asking me for some advice on her failing roses, when Victoria came into the room.  She was wearing an apron over her dress and wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.  She smiled at Ben, nodded hello to me and as she held her empty glass out to Oliver, glanced at Helena.  Her eyes darted from Helena back to me and she smiled slowly.

“Well,” she said, “isn’t that funny.  You’re wearing the same dress.”

“Victoria…” Ben started to say, his voice sharp.

Smiling good-naturedly, I calmly interrupted him.

“I thought it looked pretty good on me until I saw it on her.” Turning to Helena I said, “I’d love to be able to pull off that colour, it’s beautiful on you.”

“Oh.  Thank you and I could say the same,” Helena said politely, “I can’t wear coral and it’s perfect with your hair.”

I smiled and turned back, raising my glass to Victoria, “Happy Anniversary.” I said cheerfully.

If she’d been one of my friends, I’d have happily told her to fuck off for pointing it out. But it was her party, she was Ben’s friend and frankly, I wasn’t the slightest bit surprised, since I knew how she felt about me. 

Ben’s hand flexed against my back and I could have sworn Oliver was trying not to laugh as he hurried from the room, saying something about getting more wine from the fridge and I returned to my conversation with Catherine and Elise.

Over the next hour, appetizers were passed around and I met a few more of the guests, getting up and moving around the room.   I asked Oliver where I could smoke and he told me there was an ashtray on the patio off the kitchen.  Ben was standing in front of the fireplace, talking with Helena when I caught his eye and mimed that I was going to have a cigarette.   I sort of enjoyed being one of the only smokers; it gave me a chance to get away and have a few minutes on my own.

As I came back into the house, Victoria was at the stove and I heard her swear under her breath.

“Something wrong?”

She looked over her shoulder at me, “I wasn’t paying attention and I’ve over salted the soup.”

“May I taste it?”

She nodded and passed me a spoon.  I tried the soup and it was delicious, but definitely too salty.

“I spend half of yesterday making the stock and now there’s no way I can serve that.”

“We might be able to fix it if you have some cheesecloth.”

“I do, in the bottom drawer in front of you.  How will straining it help?”

“We’re not going to strain it,” I said, taking the cloth from the drawer, “We’ll make a pouch of rice and let it sit in the soup for about half an hour.  It’ll absorb the liquid then you can add more to dilute the salt.”

“That really works?”

“Oh yeah, it works like a charm.  Do you have more of the stock?”

“Yes, thank god.”

She got a jar of rice from the cupboard and I cut the cheesecloth then I held the pouch of rice while she tied it shut and put it into the pot.

“Put the lid on and let it do its thing.  We can come back and check on it in a little bit.”

I looked at my watch and we went back to the party.  Ben was sitting on a chair talking with David and as I joined them, he put his arm around me.  When David turned his head to talk to the person next to him, I whispered in Ben’s ear.

“How’s Helena?”

“Not quite as polite to me as she was to you, but she’s fine.  I don’t think our dating mattered as much to her as it did to Victoria.  Still, I apologized for the way I left it, not calling her.”

“You didn’t tell her why, did you?”

“I didn’t have to, Victoria had.  Made me feel a right prick.”

“It serves you right,” I smiled, “That’ll teach you to pick up strange women in bars.”

“But, I like my women strange.”

I giggled as David turned back to talk to Ben.  I kept an eye on the time and after half an hour, I found Victoria.

“So, just take the pouch of rice out and add some more stock.” I said.

She nodded, “I’ll give it a try.  Would you ask Oliver to start moving everyone into the dining room?”

The whole meal was fantastic and when one of the guests asked me to pass the salt while we were eating the soup, Victoria caught my eye and I smiled.  I felt maybe I’d started to win her over, that my willingness to help had shown her we needn’t be enemies.  After dessert, Ollie and Victoria sat together at the head of the table and opened their presents.  Someone gave them a clock; there were picture frames and two sets of crystal glasses, both with very nice bottles of wine.  I had signed the card Ben had gotten for them and watched as they enthused over the gift certificate he’d bought for them to the same cottage we’d stayed at in Wales for my birthday.

We all moved back to the living room and Oliver lit the fireplace.  I sat back in the sofa, nursing a glass of whiskey and watching Ben talking and laughing on the other side of the room.  Elise sat down next to me.

“I can’t tell you how nice it is to see him happy.  With you, I mean.  It’s obvious he’s crazy about you.”

“Is it?” I asked, wondering what made her think so, especially given what was going on with us.

“He watches you when he thinks no one’s looking and when you make someone laugh, he smiles, like he’s proud of you.”

He glanced over at me now and smiled when he saw me watching him.

“Our boy’s in love.” Elise whispered behind her glass, “Finally.”

“So am I.”

Suddenly, I needed to be alone with him, to have him to myself.  I knew it was selfish, and I knew nothing sexual was going to happen, but it didn’t make any difference.  I stood up, walked across the room and slipped my hand into his.

“Can we go home?” I asked when he looked at me.

“Of course.  Is everything alright?”

“Mm-hmm, everything’s fine.  I just want to be home, with you.”

“Ollie, can you call us a taxi please?” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.

Though he’d overheard our conversation, Oliver, king of the smart-assed remark, held his tongue for once and did as he’d been asked.  Ben and I made a circuit of the room, saying good bye to everyone then put on our coats and stepped outside to wait for the cab.  Standing on the front porch in the damp, chilly evening air, I slipped my arms around his waist under his jacket.  He smoothed his hand over my hair and he exhaled.

“Kai…”

“I know.  I had fun tonight and I think I even made progress with Victoria finally.  I’m sorry I pulled you away from your friends; I know you haven’t changed your mind and I don’t expect anything from you.  I only want to curl up on the sofa and feel your arms around me.   I need be close to you; that’s all.”

I spent the cab ride with my head on his shoulder, eyes closed, just enjoying the warmth of him next to me  At home, I went upstairs to swap my dress and heels for an old t-shirt and a pair of p.j. pants.  When I went back down, Ben was sitting on the sofa with the T.V. remote in his hand, idly clicking through the channels. 

“Can I sit on your lap?”

His eyes creased at the corners, “You don’t have to ask permission.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m trying to tempt you.”

“Don’t be silly,” he held his hand out, “come here.”

As I curled up on his lap, his big hands gripped my hips and he shifted my position to make us more comfortable.  I bit the inside of my cheek at the memories his movements provoked and tried to relax.

“Would you like to watch a film or something?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“Any requests?”

“Nothing Scottish.” I said dryly.

I felt his chuckle rumble through his chest as he scrolled through Netflix.

“Ooh, ‘House of Cards’.” I said.

“You’re a season ahead of me though.”

“I don’t care, I’ll watch it again.”

We drank most of a bottle of wine and watched two episodes before he started to yawn.  He’d slept poorly the night before so, taking his hand, I stood up.

“Come on you, bed.”

“Go on up.  I’ll turn the lights out and check I locked the front door.”

I brushed my teeth, washed my face and went into the bedroom.  He was sitting on the bed in his pajama pants, reading the back of a book.

“You were right; I did already have this one.”

“I know.” I said, walking around the bed to my side, “It’s not like I was about to forget the dullest thing I’ve read in years.”

I got into bed as he stood up and went into the loo.  He came back, slid in next to me and turned the light out.  I lay quietly, waiting.  Slowly, he leaned over me, his hand flat on my belly and kissed me.  I pressed my hand over his, returning his kiss but not pushing.  He rested his forehead on mine.

“Good night, my love.” He whispered.

“Good night, my Ben.”

He moved down, his arm wrapping around my waist, leg over mine and pressed his face into my neck so I could feel his breath.  It felt good, right, to have him close.

“Ben?” I said quietly into the darkness.

“Yes?”

“Why do I have to wear pajamas and you only have to wear the bottoms?”

I let my fingers trail across his chest while I waited for him to answer.

“Because,” he caught my hand in his, “this was my stupid idea so I get to make the rules.   Now shut up and go to sleep.” He said over my laughter.

I woke up in the morning with my head resting on his arm, under my pillow.  I rolled over to look at him, on his back, still fast asleep.  His face was relaxed; the lines on his forehead nearly invisible and his lips looked soft and enticing.  I was about to reach for him, wanted to lie on top of him, to press my mouth to his, when I remembered.   My jaw flexed as I gritted my teeth.  It was only day two and I already hated this. 

It felt wrong to me to deny ourselves something we both loved so much and it didn’t matter how many ways he explained it, I didn’t think I’d ever believe he was right.  In my mind, our physical closeness enhanced our emotional connection and even if we did sometimes use sex to blow off some steam; well, so what?   I didn’t think we had sex instead of talking; it was more like…conversational foreplay.  Content, sated, I was able to be rational, to think clearly.  And why not have sex with the man I loved and then talk, instead of banging our heads against the wall when we were angry or frustrated and end up getting into a fight?  It just made sense to me.

Watching him sleep, the slow rise and fall of his chest, my heart ached.  Because in reality, I thought the whole ‘sex as a crutch’ thing he’d come up with was just an excuse.  I was pretty sure he wasn’t aware of that when he’d come up with his theory and now he was going to stick with it because he was just as stubborn as I.  And I was sure I was right when I said that it wasn’t me that he doubted, that his fear had nothing to do with me at all.  This was all him, his insecurity, his uncertainty.  Though why it had reared its ugly head now, when he was home and we were together was a complete mystery.  For me, it had happened when we were forced by his work to be apart, when I couldn’t look into his eyes and see the truth of how he felt about me.  I frowned, wondering about his hesitance, what was going on in his head that he couldn’t see, couldn’t accept that he was everything to me. 

Maybe I had done something to make him uncertain, or not done something that he needed, in order to be sure.  If that were the case, I’d figure it out.  I’d figure out what he needed from me and give it to him, whatever it was.  Anything to take that look off his face; the sadness and fear I’d seen yesterday when we were talking on the terrace.

“What’s wrong?”

His eyes were open.  I didn’t know how long he’d been watching me.

“I’m sad.  I’m sad because you are.”

“I’m confused more than anything,” he rolled up onto his elbow, “and I need a little time to get my head straight.  I’m not sad.”

“Liar.”

He smiled, “I’m not lying.  Well, not completely.  If I am unhappy it’s not because of us, it’s because I don’t know what’s going on in my mind and because I’m forcing you into doing something you don’t agree with, to satisfy my own needs.  I know it’s not fair but even though it feels so wrong, I still need to do it.” He held my eyes, like he was trying to convince me. 

“I know.  I’m trying to understand Ben, I really am.  I’m not sure why this is happening now, but,” I put my hand on his chest, “I don’t blame you for needing to figure it out.”

“But you’re still sad.”

“And you’re sad that I’m sad that you’re sad.  God, what a couple of idiots.”

He grinned and bent over me for a kiss.  I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on for dear life, trying to make him see that I didn’t doubt him at all.

He came up for air with a sigh, “I’m going have a cup of coffee and go for a run.  Would you like to come with me?”

“Yes.”

He tried to sit up.

“Are you going to let go so I can get up?”

“No.”

With a bark of laughter, he rolled over, bringing me with him and as he stood up, I wrapped my legs around his waist.  It wasn’t easy to make coffee with me hanging on him but he managed it.  Later, we both changed into our running gear and we walked hand in hand up to the Heath.  At the head of the pathway, I stopped to put my ear buds in.

“Don’t bother trying to go slow for me,” I said, “Just run.  I’ll stick to the path, you can meet me on the way back and we’ll run home together.”

“You’re sure?  I don’t mind.”

“Go.  Put your music on and run.”

With a quick kiss and a smile, he took off.  I watched him slowly disappearing into the distance as I set my own pace.  It was just as well I’d sent him off on his own.  It was Sunday and I hadn’t thought about how busy it would be.  I constantly had to leave the path to cut around people walking, pushing strollers, or running more slowly than I was and it would have made it difficult to hold a conversation even if we had been running together.  I listened to music and pushed myself hard.  I still felt like I’d been spending too much time sitting at my desk in the office when I’d rather have been outside, using my body the way I used to.  I liked feeling strong and capable and so now, I concentrated on my breathing and picked up my pace. 

I was mouthing the words to a song I was trying to learn, lost in my own head when a pair of hands grabbed me around the waist from behind.  I jumped, my heart suddenly hammering in fear and I spun around, instinctively swinging my arm to defend myself.  My fist connected solidly and as the figure went down I ripped my head phones from my ears and drew my foot back to start kicking.

“Stop, Kai!  It’s me.”

The familiarity of the voice stopped me dead.

“Jesus Christ Hiddleston!”

He slowly sat up in the grass where I’d knocked him flat, pulling back the hood of his jacket and raising his hand to the side of his face, “You hit hard.”

I knelt down next to him, “Well, I’m sorry, but you scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry too.  I called your name, but your music must have been too loud to hear me.  Wow,” he gave his head a little shake, “you really walloped me.”

As I stood up, I noticed we’d drawn a bit of a crowd.  I offered him a hand to get to his feet.

“You should probably get up before someone calls a cop to report an assault.”

He looked around with a grin as he grabbed my hand and hopped up, “Ben would kill me if I got you arrested.”

“Um…I was defending myself, you started it.”

We stared at each other for a second and then we both burst into a fit of giggles.  Seeing that there was no real trouble, the crowd started to disperse.

“Where’s your man?  How come he’s not here, defending you from the perils of Hampstead Heath?”

“He’s somewhere up ahead.  I don’t think it occurred to either of us that I’d be set upon by an unsavory character.”

He grinned, “Can I run with you for a bit?”

“You’re welcome to, but I don’t want to slow you down.  If you’d rather see if you can catch up to Ben, it’s fine with me.”

“Let’s just run and see how it goes.  If you’re holding me back, I’ll let you know.”

We took off, and he let me set the pace, not complaining that I wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking.  As I’d suspected earlier, one or both of us kept having to leave the path to get around people but we managed to carry on enough of a conversation that I ended up inviting him to join me and Jem for dinner on Monday.  It wasn’t long before Ben met us coming back the other way.  We stepped off the path and I took Ben’s water bottle from his hand and drank while they said hello.

“What’s happened to your face?”

The welt on Tom’s jaw was bright red and slightly puffy. 

“Some lout thumped me, for no reason.  Great big fellow.” He said innocently.

“I saw the whole thing,” I said, “the guy came out of nowhere.”

Ben looked from me to Tom and back again.

“Pull the other one, it’s got bells on.”

Tom explained what had really happened and after he demonstrated how I’d nearly kicked him in the ribs when he was down, Ben looked at me with the strangest expression on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that, it was his own fault.”

“But you hit him in the face.  You’re the one who said you should always go for the throat.  Did you hurt yourself?” He asked, reaching for my hands to check.

“I wasn’t really aiming, I was just glad I connected at all, I mean, until I knew it was only Tom.  And I’m fine, no harm done.”

“Yes, I’m fine too actually, thanks for asking.” Tom said sourly.

“You got exactly what you deserved.  In fact, you’re lucky to have gotten off so lightly.  She’s stronger than she looks.” Ben said.

“Yeah.  So there.” I said with a big grin.

“Two against one is not good odds for me winning this argument.  I’m going to finish my run in humiliated solitude.  See you tomorrow Kai?”

“Seven o’clock and I’ll text you if I’m running late.  Don’t forget your guitar.”

Tom took off with a last wave and Ben smiled, “Another date with Tom?”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about, we’ll have a chaperone.  Jem’s coming too.”

Grinning, I didn’t wait for my comment to register but turned and started running.  I hadn’t gotten more than half a dozen steps before he caught up, laughing and slapped me on the ass.  We headed for home, running together now.  We showered, separately, and had lunch before getting our calendars and phones and spreading everything out on the desk in his office. 

“I thought it would be easiest if we colour coded everything.  Then we can both see at a glance what’s coming up.”

“Smart.  Who’s what colour?”

“My schedule will be highlighted in orange, yours in blue and events we’re going to together in green.  The dates when you’re away will have a big black ‘X’ on them because I don’t like those.”

He smiled, “Alright, let’s get started.”

We both leaned on the desk, transcribing our information to the new calendar.  My schedule was easiest; Monday through Friday most weeks, so I put a band of orange at the top of each square.  Ben’s rehearsals were a bit more erratic, so he wrote his call hours on those dates and then drew a blue line over them.  We started adding the parties and special events that I would be able to attend, marking them in green but then started to get back into ‘maybe’ territory.

“So, what do we do about these ones?  The ones we don’t know yet if you’re going to be able to come to.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out another pen.

“Ta da!  Yellow for unconfirmed, that way, if it turns out I can go, we can easily change it to green.”

“You’ve thought of everything.”  He said, plucking the pen from my hand.

“I just like all the pretty colours.”

He put his arm around my waist and let it stay there while we worked on.  There were a few times here and there when he’d be away, short trips of only a day or two and for some of them, if I got my visa in time, I’d be able to go with him.  But when we got to January when he’d be leaving for Prague and I placed the first whole row of black X’s, I had to stop.

“I think that’s good enough for now.” I said quietly.

He sat down in the big office chair and pulled me onto his lap, not saying anything, just holding me.  I tucked my face into his neck and closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of him. 

“It’s months away, but I hate to think of you leaving again.”

“I’ve already checked.  It’s only a two hour flight.  We can be together every weekend.”

I sat up, smiling at him, “You’ve already checked?”

“Yes.  Do you imagine it’s any easier for me to be apart from you just because I’m the one who has to go away?  We’ll take turns flying back and forth.  When you think about it, the trip to Bradford was longer and we still managed it.”

“And we managed it when you were in the States and when you were in South America.  We make a pretty effective team.”

“If you want something badly enough you’ll do anything to get it.” He said softly.

I pressed my hand to his chest, “I’d move mountains for you.”

“You’ve done enough.  You’ve changed practically your whole life for me.”

“Listen to me Cumberbatch,” I said forcefully, “I’d do every single bit of it again and no matter what else comes along I can handle it.  You’re worth it.  We’re worth it.  When I tell you I’d do anything for you it’s not just words, it’s a promise.”

“So fierce,” he said with a slow smile, “how did I get so lucky?”

“It may have been luck that brought us together but you made me want to stay.  You said and did all the right things.  You made me fall in love with you and I’m not going anywhere.  I’m going to keep showing you until you believe it’s true that what we have is more than enough to last until our dying days.”

His eyebrows drew together, he looked down and then with a deep breath, back up to my eyes.

“I love you so fucking much.” He said; his voice hoarse.

“I know.”

And I did.  I believed him and the only thing in the world I believed more was that I wasn’t going to let him push me away.  He was mine.

 


	24. The Space Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been exactly one year since I posted the first chapter of this story and (clearly) I had no idea what I was getting myself in to.
> 
> I apologize for how long it's been between the last chapter and this, but as you'll see, it's a long one and, given the approaching date, took on greater significance for me as I wrote...and wrote, and wrote ;)
> 
> So, the summary? Nah, just read it and see for yourself...Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If consent is a trigger for you, please be aware that there is a very brief moment in this chapter that touches on that.
> 
> 26/6 - I'm a total jerk and forgot to thank Kat, who so kindly allowed me to use up an obnoxious amount of her free time to beta this chapter (and so many of the ones before). And, extra thanks to her for gently (ha! yeah, right) redirecting me when I was blithely sauntering down the wrong path.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 24 – The Space Between

I was sitting on the counter with a glass of wine and Ben was at the table, leafing through my recipe file while we tried to decide what to eat.

“This looks good.”

He flipped the card over for me to see; my Mum’s recipe for stuffed green peppers.

“It is good.” I agreed, “And it’s easy too.”

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, “Is that a hint?”

“Too subtle?” I asked.

“No, I think I’ve got it.”

Grinning, he got up and came over to stand between my knees, kissing me on the forehead.  I plucked the recipe from his hand and read it over.

“We’ve got everything but the peppers and the meat.”

“I’ll run to the shop.  Anything else you’d like me to pick up?”

I shook my head and he went to the closet and began putting on his shoes.  I hopped off the counter and leaned in the doorway.

“Ben?  What does Helena do?”

He looked up at me, “Why are you asking about her?”

“She’s the only ex of yours I’ve met.  She’s gorgeous and it’s weird for me to think you were seeing her when we met.”

“She’s in advertising.” He said, reaching for his coat.

“Advertising.  Is that your way of telling me she actually is a supermodel?”

“No,” he smiled, “she’s an account manager at a firm in the city.  Why are you really asking?”

I had been taken aback by how stunning Helena was and it was still on my mind.  The only reason I was asking about her was ego.  Slightly ashamed of myself, I shrugged, thinking my face had given me away again. 

“Curiosity.”

“Kai,” he put his hands on my upper arms, “this thing I’m asking you to do?  It has nothing to do with me not being attracted to you.  If anything, it’s because I’m too attracted to you.  You must know by now that I think you’re the most beautiful, desirable woman I’ve ever known.”

I watched his eyes, pale blue, the gold flecks standing out in the light from the kitchen and I gently traced a fingertip from his bottom lip to his chin, down his neck and over his Adam’s apple to the hollow below his throat.  His pupils flared.

“Yeah, I know.”

I heard him mutter “Bloody woman,” under his breath as I walked away, grinning.

When he got back, I offered to help with the cooking but he chased me out of the kitchen, reminding me that he had a perfectly good recipe to follow and if he had any questions, I wasn’t far away.

His rehearsals started tomorrow and he’d told me a little about the play ages ago, when he first came home from South America.  This evening when I mentioned it again, he offered to let me read it so now I was reclining on the sofa with my glass of wine in one hand and the script in the other.  At first it had been hard not to be distracted by the notes he’d made, his messy scrawl filling nearly all the blank space on each page but after the first few pages, I’d gotten so caught up in the story that I forgot all about his notes.

I read the last sentence, closed the back cover and tossed the script onto the coffee table.  Hearing the sound, Ben stuck his head around the corner.

“Finished?”

I nodded and he asked, “What do you think?”

“It’s very good.  Smart; thoughtful, funny.  Complicated.”

“And, my character?”

“He’s darker than I was expecting.”

“He is,” he said, sitting down and lifting my feet into his lap, “that’s a big reason I said yes when they offered it to me.”

“If you were looking for something to stretch yourself a little bit, I think you’ve found it.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’…”

I hesitated for a second, “He’s such an asshole.  Have you ever played anyone this nasty?”

Cocking an eyebrow, he asked, “Have you not seen ‘Atonement’?”

“Yes, and he was vile.  You were very good in that.  You made my skin crawl.”

“I was supposed to.  This new character though, he’s not like that.”

“No, he’s not a creep, but he’s just so unlikeable.  I get that he’s damaged, that there are reasons he is the way he is, always on the attack, but it won’t be easy, making him sympathetic, trying to draw some kind of compassion from the audience.”

“So you agree with my notes?”

“You’re referring to the hieroglyphics in the margins?  You’re joking, right?  I could barely make out one word in five.”

He smiled, “You’ve basically condensed all my notes into one sentence.  Nearly everything I’ve written in there,” he nodded at the script, “is about finding the humanity in him.”

“You’re going to have your work cut out for you.”

“Yes.”

“You’re excited about it, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“Good.  I’m just glad you’re not into method acting.  I really don’t know if I could live with that guy for three months.”

Chuckling, he rubbed the soles of my feet with his thumbs, “It’s not as though you’d let me get away with bringing him home with me anyway.  You always call me on my shit.  Like that nonsense with my shirt and the drycleaner.”

“That wasn’t nonsense, it was transference.  You were in a bad mood because you were leaving so you picked a fight.  Fortunately, I saw right through you.”

He tilted his head, “You’re quite good at that, seeing right through me.  What am I thinking right now?”

Putting my fingers to my temples, I pretended to mind read, “That you should check the peppers?”

“I’ve set the timer.”

“Hmm…is it something about the clothes in the dryer?”

“Not even close,” He said and he slid my right foot off his lap, moving between my legs and resting his weight on me, “I thought I might kiss you.  Just for a little while.”

“I like that idea so much better than folding laundry.” I said, putting my arms around him.

I felt his quiet laugh as an exhale against my neck.  His lips moved slowly over my skin, along my jaw to my mouth.  I craved the closeness, the feeling of him on top of me; our physical connection.  And this by itself was enough, for now.  ~~~~

With his mouth on mine, our tongues gently moving together, his hand slid over my shirt, up my ribcage and he cupped my breast.  The sound I made was completely involuntary; if I’d known it was coming, I’d have held it in.  For a split second, his hips flexed into me and then he stopped.  His eyes opened, held mine, and he gave his head a shake.

“I’m sorry, I’m getting carried away.” He said, carefully lifting himself off me.

He grimaced in discomfort as he sat back and I exhaled slowly before sitting up.  I took his hand.

“I could kiss you forever and if that’s all we do I’m O.K. with that.  We can’t let temptation stop us from being close.”

“It doesn’t piss you off that I started something I wasn’t going to finish?”

“Absolutely not; I’d rather have that than nothing at all.  I can live with getting a little bit worked up and not going any further.  What I can’t live with is the idea of you keeping your distance out of concern that we can’t control ourselves.  We’re both adults Ben, we can do this.”

“Can we?” he asked, dubiously.

“Yes, of course we can.  And anyway, it’s only been two days.  We’ve gone much longer when we had to be apart so it’s a matter of willpower.” I lifted his hand and kissed his fingertips, one by one, “And in the meantime, I’ll just keep reminding myself how wonderful it is when you come home to me, and how this is kind of the same thing.”

“Come here.”

He held his arms out and I moved beside him, resting my head on his shoulder, my legs tucked up against his.

“You’re being very patient with me.  It’s not like you.”

We laughed and I agreed, “No, patience is not my default position.  I have considered all my options though and found they were limited.”

“This should be interesting.”

“One,” I held up a finger, “I flat out refuse to go along with it and we carry on as though you never brought it up.  Works in the short term, but in the long run solves nothing and likely results in a huge blow-up of some kind later.  So, that’s out.  Two, I tell you to go fuck your hat and that if you don’t believe by now that I love you and plan to stay with you for the rest of our lives that it’s not my problem and I move out until you get your shit together.”

As I’d been talking, his muscles tensed and he inhaled sharply.

“Relax,” I said, placing my hand flat on his belly, “Obviously that’s no kind of solution at all.  Again, it fixes nothing and only results in both of us being totally miserable.  Full disclosure?  I did actually consider it for about 5 seconds but I’m not giving you up and if you’re trying to get rid of me, you’ll have to come up with something much worse than this.  Or, three,” I barrelled on as he tried to interrupt, “though I think your reasoning is fatally flawed, I agree to not having sex with you for two weeks because you asked me to.  And really Ben, that’s what it comes down to.  We’re partners.  If you need something, I will provide it.  It’s that simple.”

His arms tightened around me and he kissed the top of my head.  One hand dropped to rest on top of mine and he spoke, very quietly, “I don’t know where you got the idea that I don’t think you love me.  I never said that.”

I sat up and looked at him for a long time while I ran our conversations of the past couple of days over in my mind.

“No, you didn’t.” I frowned, “I’m confused though.  I thought you needed to be sure that I love you, all of you.  If you believe I love you then why exactly are we doing this?”

“I think sometimes, it doesn’t matter how much two people love each other, it can still all go terribly wrong if they’re not good at solving their problems.  And we may think we’re good at it when in fact, we might not be addressing them at all.  If we’re arguing about something but we have sex and then we both feel better, at least for a while, then we’re not really facing the problem head on.  We’re only, to use your expression, delaying the inevitable and then since we haven’t actually done anything to fix it, it’s going to come back up at some point and maybe be worse the second time around.  That’s why I came up with this in the first place.  If we can go for a couple of weeks being together, talking things through and not resort to using sex as a way of smoothing over the tough parts, then I think it says that we can do this for the long term.  I think it would prove that we’re both willing to work for what matters.  We’re partners, so if something is wrong, if something is missing, we’re both responsible, equally.  Just as we’re both equally responsible for making sure that we figure it out and work through it, together.”

“You know what I hate?”

“What?”

“When I think you’re wrong but you still make complete sense.”

The oven timer rang and we sighed in unison.

“Saved by the bell.  Go get the peppers out of the oven and I’ll pour some more wine.”

He stood, taking my hands and pulling me up with him, “We need to finish this discussion.”

“We can talk while we eat.  We should be fairly safe from temptation, with a table between us.”

“As if we’ve ever let furniture stand in our way.” He said grimly and I had to laugh.

The stuffed peppers were delicious, and tasting Mum’s recipe made me a little homesick.  While we ate, we continued to talk but it had started to feel to me as though Ben was only thinking out loud.  I still felt as though he wasn’t being honest with himself and instead of making his position clearer, all he was doing was confounding me further.  Or, for some reason he wasn’t being honest with me and that was the more hurtful possibility.  Why couldn’t he just tell me?   

He finally got up, taking our plates to the sink and then, leaning on the counter, began again, “I just think…”

“Wait.” I said, holding my hands up in surrender, “We’re starting to talk in circles.  We’re going over and over the same arguments and we’re not getting any further ahead.  Can we please take a break, just for the rest of the evening?  I need time to think about all we’ve said.  Then,” I said brightly, “we can argue some more tomorrow.”

He nodded and picked up the wine bottle from the counter, “Almost empty.  Should I open another?”

“Not for me, thanks.  I’m going to get the clothes from the dryer and have a bath.”

“Go ahead.  I’ll do the washing up.”

Taking my book, I settled in for a long soak, trying to read but too distracted by everything we’d talked about tonight.  When Ben had first proposed that we stop having sex, I’d been sure that his decision was rooted in insecurity, that for whatever reason, he was convinced that who he was wouldn’t be enough to keep me.  And I had the hardest time reconciling that side of him with the other, the strong, confident, even cocky man that I’d fallen in love with. 

Really though, it wasn’t all that different from how I felt sometimes.  I was so crazy about him, recognized his faults but mostly ignored them in favour of his strengths that I sometimes wondered how I’d been lucky enough to have him fall for me.  In my moments of weakness, I doubted too, and probably would have felt this way even if we didn’t have the added pressure of his celebrity on top of the usual stresses of any relationship.  He told me all the time not only that he loved me, but why and he showed me every day that we were together, in a thousand little ways.  But the small, nasty, critical voice that I’d tried for so long to bury still lived inside me and in moments of doubt, it reared its head with a vengeance.  I thought back to when he was in Venezuela and the story about him and his co-star had made the rounds, how sick and sad and shaken I’d been and not because of what he had or hadn’t done, but because of my own insecurity.  It wasn’t that I’d believed he was a cheater; it was that, on some level, I’d believed that I wasn’t worth being faithful to, until he’d helped convince me otherwise.

So now, in the face of all of his arguments, and in spite of everything he’d said to convince me that he knew how much I loved him, I was still absolutely sure that this whole thing really came down to him somehow not being sure of himself and by extension, us.  He’d been my greatest support, my strongest ally and had managed to make me believe in him and in us.  I would do whatever he needed, for as long as it took, to show him he was worth it.  And afterwards I would kick his ass for putting me through this.

After I’d dried my hair, I joined him in bed, pillows piled up behind us and we were reading when his mobile rang.  He picked it up off the nightstand and answered.

“Hello Mum.”

I listened to his end of the conversation with half an ear.

“Sick?  Is it serious?”

I felt a stab of concern, realizing they were talking about Tim.  I turned to Ben, putting my hand on his leg.  He put his hand over mine, nodding as he listened to Wanda.

“You’re sure it’s only a cold?”  There was a pause, then, “For Christ’s sake, the garden isn’t going anywhere; tell him to take it easy.”

I couldn’t make out all of Wanda’s words, but her tone of frustration came through.

“I’d be happy to talk to him but if you can’t make him see sense, he’s hardly going to listen to me.”

I watched his face, his brows drawn together, worry evident in his eyes.

“Yes, I know he is, Mum.  Come up?  I don’t know, I can try but I’ve got rehearsals all week and I’m co-hosting a benefit on Saturday.  I’m not sure I can cancel on such short notice.” He nodded again, “I’ll make some calls in the morning and let you know, alright?  No, no it’s no trouble.”

I tapped him on the leg, making him look at me, “Hold on Mum.” He said.

“I’ll go.”

“You will?”

“It makes more sense for me to go.” I said, “He knows what I can do, so if we tell him I’m coming up to help for a day or two, maybe he’ll take it easy until I get there.” I grinned, “I can do all the heavy lifting and leave the lighter jobs for him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, tell your Mum I’ll go up on Friday, after work.”

Smiling, he got back on the phone and told Wanda what I’d offered.

“She wants to talk to you.” He said, passing me the phone.

“Kai, I do so appreciate this.  The last time you were here, Tim was so pleased with how much the two of you got done.  Hopefully, if he knows you’re coming to help out, I can get him to rest for a couple of days in preparation.”

“That’s what I was thinking too.  I’ll be there on Friday evening so that gives us all of Saturday and if I need to I can stay Sunday as well.  Tell him to start making a list now of everything he wants done.”

She said she’d have supper ready when I arrived and I hung up the phone.

Ben’s hand was stroking my back, “You have no idea how much it means to me that you’re doing this.”

“If it were my Dad, I think you’d do the same.”

“I would.  But I mean it; I know how nervous you were about going to visit them when I was going to be with you.  Now you’re going to be alone with them and that’s a whole different dynamic.”

“Fucking hell,” I swore, “I didn’t even think of that.”

“I’m sure Mum will be on her best behaviour, especially since you’re doing her a favour.  And me.” He said sweetly.

“I hope you’re right.  But I’m not doing it for either of you; I’m doing it for your Dad.  He’s my favourite.”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“I should get to sleep; I have to be up early.” I said.

He put his script away and we turned our bedside lamps off.  He pulled me close, spooning me and pushed my hair up over the pillow so he could tuck his face into my neck.  I stroked his arm where it lay against my chest.

“Have I said how much I hate wearing pajamas?”

“Yes but just think, you can sleep naked all weekend.  Without me.  At my Mum and Dad’s.”

“Ben?”

“Yes?”

“You’re awful.”

I woke, shivering, before my alarm went off.  I reached down, hunting for the duvet and couldn’t find it.  Turning over, I saw Ben, rolled in a cocoon of blankets on the far side of the bed.  Weird; I couldn’t even remember the last time we’d slept in the same bed without touching.  I checked the time and since I was supposed to be getting up in less than an hour anyway, I decided to go in to work early and I let him sleep.

Ben didn’t have to be at rehearsal until 10, so I was ready to leave long before he’d gotten up.  I left him a note wishing him luck on his first day, in the usual place, tucked under the coffee pot and quietly locked the door behind me.  Once in the office I spent the morning as I always did, clearing voice mails and returning phone calls.  In between, I made notes for my interview with Myra.  I was writing when my mobile rang and I answered it without looking at the call display.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“Hello you,” I glanced at my watch, “Shouldn’t you be rehearsing?”

“I’m at the theatre, on time for once and the director is running late.  But that’s not why I called,” He sounded amused, “Saturday, when I thought we were being followed?  We were.”

“I see.  And?”

“Have you got your laptop on?”

“Yes.”

He gave me the name of a newspaper – well, a tabloid – and I quickly found what he wanted me to see.

“Oh for crying out loud,” I started laughing, “This isn’t good.”

And it really wasn’t.  Starting with the headline, ‘Cuckoldbatch?’ and continuing with some professional looking pictures of Ben and I kissing at the car after our shopping trip, followed by two obvious cell phone shots of Tom and I on the Heath.  One picture was from just after I had helped him to his feet and at first glance, it did look like we were holding hands; the second one was us laughing together.  Ben kept quiet while I quickly scanned the article and it was pretty much what I’d expected from the story the pictures appeared to tell.  It quoted an anonymous source as saying that Tom and I had also been seen together when Ben was known to be away working and went on with the reporter suggesting that we’d been so successful at getting away with sneaking around behind Ben’s back that we’d gotten bold enough to meet on the Heath when Ben was there too.

“Jesus,” I chuckled, “what do we do now?”

“Ignore it and it’ll go away.  If we address it, it only gives it credence.  ”

I exhaled, “Good.  That’s what I think too, that denying it looks a little, ‘The lady doth protest too much’.  Have you talked to Tom?”

“Not yet.  Actually, maybe you should call him.  He’s your boyfriend after all.”

We cracked up.

“I can tell him tonight.”  I grinned, “He’s coming over for supper, remember?”

“And I won’t be there.  Good thing you’re staying in.”

“We’re supposed to but maybe he and Jem and I should go out.”

“Oh god, please don’t.  Let the dust settle a bit before you’re photographed on a date with two other men at the same time.”

After we hung up, I kept thinking about our conversation.  I was glad that he saw how ridiculous it was.  But his reaction also struck me as a little odd though because if he was as I suspected, feeling insecure, I would have thought he’d be a bit less amused by it, worried about how it appeared.  I gave my head a shake, telling myself I was falling into over thinking territory.  I meant to get back to work but for once, my discipline slipped and I let my eyes wander over the other results that had come up when I looked for that specific article. The first block of stories were all variations on a theme, each a different interpretation of the same set of photos. 

There was the one Ben had called to tell me about, suggesting that he had no idea I was carrying on behind his back with Tom, a second one that showed the same pictures and concluded that things were going very well between me and Ben because I was even making an effort to get to know his friends, and my personal favourite, the one that was blatantly hinting that we had a nice, cozy threesome going on.  Grinning at the stupidity of it all, I closed my computer.

Late that afternoon, Bev Klein called me.  It felt like I hadn’t spoken with her in ages but it had been less than a week since all the paperwork for ‘Down to Earth’ had cleared.  She and her husband Gary were going to throw a retirement party and she wanted all the staff to come so she could do a proper hand over to me and say good bye to her employees in person.  I agreed it was a good idea because I hadn’t had a chance to tell everyone yet.  We discussed dates and I asked her to send me an email so I could compare it to my calendar at home.  And Jem texted, offering to make supper and bring it with him since he had the day off and I’d be staying at the office a bit later than usual.  I reminded him to make enough for three and asked if he’d gotten my email with the chords for the song I wanted to work on.  I got back an exasperated sounding _‘Yes.  And I’m getting tired of love songs.  I have one you’re going to learn tonight too.’_  

Myra arrived right on time and we got down to business.  I had the CV she’d sent when we’d first spoken so really, didn’t have many questions for her.  When I’d had Bev on the phone I’d asked her what she would have offered to pay someone to do the job I was asking of Myra and was quietly pleased when Myra herself suggested a slightly lower figure.  I explained again that her hours were likely to be all over the place, at least until spring when I’d be spending even more time out of the office but with her company relocating and she and Phil not willing to move, she was happy to start with part time.  And since their kids were older, she also told me she could usually be available on short notice which I appreciated and had a feeling I’d be taking advantage of.  I hired her on the spot and we agreed she’d start the following Monday, working in the office with me for the week as an orientation. 

I should have been in a fantastic mood, and while I was looking forward to having some fun with the boys, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling of gloom that had settled over me.  Spending all that time alone in the office left me with too much time to think and I’d only succeeded in scaring myself with what-ifs.

I stopped on the way home to pick up some beer and a bottle of vodka and made it home in time to change before I heard the front door buzzer.  Jem arrived first and already knowing his way around the kitchen, turned the oven on to warm up while I poured him a drink.

We toasted each other with our beer bottles and after he swallowed he asked, “Everything O.K?”

“I’m fine.  Busy at work, but that’s nothing to complain about.”

“You seem off.”

I looked at him, seeing concern on his face and I briefly considered telling him what was going on.  And maybe I would have, if I understood it better myself but it was too much, too complex to talk about now, especially with Tom due to arrive shortly.

“Ben and I are…going through something right now.  But it’s complicated and I’m not ready to get into it.” I smiled to soften the blow, “Not even with you Jemmy.”

“It’s serious then?”

I considered my answer.

“Potentially.”

“Shit Kai, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah…but, there’s nothing to be done about it tonight so can we let it go?  I just want to relax and sing and maybe get a little drunk.  Oh, and laugh.  It would be good if you’d make me laugh.”

“Your wish is my command.” He reached out and gripped my shoulder, “Just, well, you know where I am if you need me.”

“Thank you Jem.”  I blinked back tears.

“Don’t do that!” He said.  I grinned as he turned away, changing the subject, “It’s a nice evening.  Why don’t we eat outside?”

We’d set the table, started on our second beers and Jem’s tagine was already in the oven when Tom arrived.  I opened the door to see him standing there with a huge grin on his face, holding the newspaper to his chest with the headline facing me.

“I’m just so sorry Ben had to find out like this.” He said.

“Never mind Ben, I wish I’d known we were having an affair.”

“I beg your pardon?” Jem said from the kitchen, catching my eye.

I shook my head, letting him know this wasn’t what I’d been talking about.

Tom passed him the paper as he came in, grabbing his guitar case from where it leaned on the door frame and shrugging his jacket off.

“Oh for the love of God,” Jem said, reading the page, “what a bunch of horseshit.”

“My rep didn’t think it was nearly as funny as I do.” Tom said.

“What I want to know is who’s this unnamed source?” I said.

“It could be someone who saw us at Jem’s place or whoever took the pictures of you punching me but it’s just as likely the reporter herself.” Tom explained.

“Really?  They do that?”

“That and worse.  Be careful for the next week or so what you say and whom you say it to.  They’ll be looking for a direct quote and they’re sneaky.”

“What’s this about punching Tom?”

Tom turned his head to show Jem the bruise on his jaw as he told the story, much embellished to make me the villain. 

“Fuck off Hiddleston.  You may be used to being able to cop a feel from anyone you like, but let me remind you, you sneaked up on me.”

“Two things: first, I really am sorry I startled you and second, I wasn’t trying to cop a feel.  If I had been,” he leered, “you’d know it.”

“You see this?” Jem grinned, leaning on the counter, “This is the shit that’s going to get you two in trouble.”

Laughing, I got Tom a drink and we moved outside to wait for supper.  After we’d eaten and cleared the table, Jem and Tom tuned their guitars and I sat back, smoking and listening as the two of them played a few songs together, getting to know each other’s styles of playing, trading off playing lead and rhythm.  When they were warmed up and ready, Jem gave Tom a copy of the music to the song I wanted to work on, ‘Feel my Love’.  Most people were familiar with the version done by Adele but it was written by one of my song writing heroes, Bob Dylan.  Though admittedly, Adele’s vocals were somewhat more…orthodox than the original.  We initially kept the tempo the same but after a few runs through, the version we ended up with was a little rougher and more blues-y than hers and though it needed more work, it sounded pretty good.  The lyrics made me think of Ben and I channeled my sadness into my singing, using it as an outlet.   Jem understood and made me go through it one more time before he proclaimed he was done with the sweet stuff and passed me the music for another song. 

I grinned, “I love the Foo Fighters.”

“I was inspired by you doing the Metallica song and started looking around for something we could do the same kind of thing with.  This came on the radio and I realized we could slow it down and ‘countrify’ it.”

Tom was strumming the chords, smiling to himself.

Jem played the melody through for me and the second time, I began singing.  ‘Times Like These’ turned out to be a great choice for an acoustic cover.  We played around with it for a while and even managed to work out a three part harmony for the chorus before I took a break.  It had gotten cool so I went inside to get everyone’s jackets and more drinks. 

When I got back, Jem had just exhaled a huge cloud of sweet smelling smoke and he offered me the joint as I sat.  I rarely smoked pot anymore but I didn’t have to impress either of my friends so I didn’t care if it made me thick headed and I took a couple of hits before offering it to Tom.  He waved me off and said he’d stick with vodka.

We played and sang and talked until long after it got dark, lighting candles on the table and turning on the fairy lights in the shrubs surrounding the terrace.  I was pleasantly buzzed, giggly and leaning back with my feet up on another chair when I heard the front door open and close.  Ben came onto the terrace and walked up behind me, leaning over to kiss me hello.  He hesitated as our lips parted and he sniffed.

“Are you high?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Yup.  As a kite.”

“I thought you didn’t like it?”

“I don’t like that it makes me stupid.  But in front of these two?” I flapped my hand in Tom and Jem’s direction, “I couldn’t care less.” I said cheerfully.

“I’m going to pour myself a drink.  Anyone need anything?”

Ben left to fill our requests and then rejoined us, flopping down in the chair beside mine and I propped my feet in his lap.

“How was your day?” I asked him.

“It was good; great actually.  First day of rehearsals is usually a bit slow but we jumped right in and made a cracking start.  I’ll tell you about my meeting later, but since Tom is here I thought we might discuss your sordid affair.”  He looked over at his friend, “I’m leaning toward ignoring it.”

“Good, that’s what I was hoping you’d say.” He said with a dirty little laugh that cracked us all up. “No, but seriously, it’ll die down pretty quickly, especially once the two of you are seen together a bit more.  And anyway, I’m leaving for California at the end of the week so I’ll be out of the picture for a while.  Literally.” He grinned.

Jem piped up, “How do you people live like this?  Doesn’t it drive you mad?”

Tom shrugged, “Mostly, it’s harmless and you get used to ignoring it.  People are naturally curious and you can’t have success in our business without accepting that this is part of it.  There is the other side, like this story and it does piss me off because really, Kai is getting caught in the cross-fire and that’s not fair.”

“I’m coming to terms with it, slowly.” I said, “I keep telling Ben, this is the trade off – I have to put up with the nonsense - but I get him in exchange.  It’s a pretty good deal as far as I’m concerned.”

“You’ve been together how long?” Tom asked.

“We met in July.”

“Amazing.  Don’t fuck it up Cumberbatch.”

I grinned sleepily at Ben, “Yeah, what that guy said.”

“I’m doing my best,” Ben glared at me out of the corner of his eye, “but she doesn’t make it easy.  Flipping off the paps, trying to get herself deported, dating my friend behind my back…”

“I’ve said, I don’t want you to get bored.”  I was playing along, trying to keep the atmosphere light for Tom and Jem’s benefit.

Ben asked after Alice, and Jem told us about a series of paintings she was working on.  He admitted to being relieved that he actually liked her work, especially after seeing what her friend Michael had shown at his exhibit.  He said she and the friends she shared her studio space with were planning another, less formal show and he wanted us to come, to show our support.

“I’m happy to go.  I like Alice, she’s very sweet.” Ben said.  He slowly stroked my leg, “Did you learn any new songs tonight?”

“We did,” I answered, “but I don’t think they’re quite ready for an audience.”

“It’s only me.  Come on, sing for me, please?”

Jem picked up his guitar and started to play ‘Feel my Love’.  I reached for my drink, having a sip and holding the glass in my hands as I sang.  My throat was dry, my voice sounding huskier than usual on the low notes but I kept going, transfixed by Ben’s face as I sang to him.  When I finished, no one said anything for a moment, then Tom spoke up.

“Uh, yeah, sounded quite different than when you were just singing for us.”

Ben smiled at me as Jem put his guitar back in its case and stood.

“I should get going; I have a long day tomorrow.”

“I’ll go with you.” Tom said, “You two stay put, we’ll see ourselves out.”

They collected their things and were gone before either Ben or I had said a word.

He slid off his chair and kneeling at my feet, wrapped his arms around my waist and held me.  Putting my drink back on the table, I stroked his hair, gently kneaded the muscles in his shoulders and he looked up at me.

“You’re everything to me.  I really am trying not to fuck this up.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong Ben and I promise, I’m not ever going to give up on us.” I held his face in my hands and pressed my lips to his.  “Let me clean up and we can go to bed.”

“Leave it; I’ll do it in the morning.” He said and stood, offering me his hand.

We went upstairs and standing beside our bed, we kissed, slowly, softly, fingers lingering on warm skin as we undressed each other.  He threw the covers back and pulled me into the bed beside him, twining his legs with mine, his face pressed into my hair.  I felt him, hard against my hip and I closed my eyes, amazed at his restraint and forcing myself to emulate it.

“Goodnight my love.  Thank you for the song.”

“I couldn’t have meant it more if I’d written it myself.” I told him, desperately wishing I could somehow get through to him and make this stop.

But for the rest of the week, the hours at home crawled by; each day feeling longer than the one before.   We’d eat dinner and clean up then Ben would bury himself in his script, saying more than once how much he had to do, how the first weeks of rehearsal were the hardest.  Making excuses for our inability to move forward.  And normally when he was working on his lines, I was used to being quiet, letting him concentrate but this was different, the long silences not companionable but strained, painful.   Worse were the moments when we touched without thinking, catching ourselves and letting go quickly, muttering endless apologies.  Avoiding temptation; avoiding each other.  This was exactly what Ben wanted to find out, how we would cope with not being able to screw our way out of a difficult situation.  And even if it was a difficulty of our own making, I felt like we were failing miserably.

By Thursday I felt that the timing couldn’t be better for us to have a day or two apart.  The tension between us so thick, I sometimes felt like I couldn’t breathe and the pressure to keep looking for explanations - his struggle to find the words for what stood between us, and my inability to see his point and constant pushing for some kind of resolution - was taking its toll, both of us becoming short tempered.  I caught myself sniping at him for things like not rinsing the sink after he’d brushed his teeth and when he corrected my pronunciation in the middle of a discussion, I nearly bit his head off.  And he gave as good as he got, the two of us staring each other down over the dining table after he’d made a snarky comment about dinner and I called him spoiled and pompous only to have him snarl back at me that I was being irrational and overly sensitive.  

I began to look forward to the physical labour I’d be doing in Tim’s garden and hoped that maybe a change of scenery would shake things up and I’d find some clarity.  And I hoped for Ben’s sake that having some time to himself was exactly what he needed, that if I gave him space to think, he’d find his answers.

Leah had called, asking if I knew about the most recent article in the papers.  I assured her I did and that Ben and Tom thought it hilarious.  We agreed to meet for dinner on Thursday at a pub near her house and over drinks she brought up the pictures again, saying she’d seen the coverage online.

“Why does it seem like you always know what’s supposedly going on, sometimes even before I do?”

“I set a Google alert for your name.” She announced.

“You what?!”

She chuckled, “After the fiasco with the baby shower shopping and you telling Cass and me that you don’t read things about Ben since Venezuela, I thought it might be a good idea if someone you can trust kept an eye out.  Jem doesn’t read the tabs so I figured it fell to me.”

“That’s one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me.”

“Yeah, well, I always did like reading gossip even if I knew most of it was nonsense.  I have a whole new perspective on it now though, since you met Ben.” She grinned, “And since meeting Tom.  What exactly was going on in those pictures?”

When I explained, she laughed so hard she got the hiccups.

By the time I got home, Ben was already asleep. It made me sad that I felt relief, not sure what there was for us to say to each other at this point that would change anything.  I put on my pajamas, crawled in next to him and when I laid my head on his chest he woke just long enough to put his arm around me with a sigh.  I had missed him, too...

But again, when I woke in the morning, we were on opposite sides of the bed, our backs to each other.  I drew my legs up, wrapping my arms around them and with my chin on my knees, watched him sleep.  I had come to terms with his need to see how we would handle not having sex, whether it would change how we communicated and I accepted that this was what he needed.  I accepted that it was important to him.  What I couldn’t bear was that since we’d stopped having sex, he seemed to be driftingaway from me.  Only a few nights ago we’d gone to sleep in each other’s arms, naked for the only time since I’d agreed to do this.  And yet, every morning since the weekend, I’d woken alone.  He was only on the other side of the bed but it felt like he was a million miles away and it scared me.  

He got up while I was brushing my teeth and went downstairs to put the kettle on.  Then he showered while I packed and we had time for a quick cup of coffee together before we had to leave.  He carried my bag down and we stood by our cars.

“I realize it’s only for the weekend, but this feels very strange; I’m used to being the one who’s going away.”

“Sucks to be the one left at home, doesn’t it?” I smiled to take the sting out of my words and put my arms around his waist.

“It does.  I think you’re stronger than I am.”

“I’m not.  I cry like a baby every time you leave.”

He hugged me to his chest, “I have to go or I’ll be late.”

“Ben?” My voice broke and I couldn’t look at him, “I’m tired of pretending to be strong.” 

His arms tightened around me and he spoke softly, “Tell me.”

“I’m sad because I miss you, I miss how we were.  I’m terrified that I’m losing you and I feel like I did something wrong, like somehow I caused this whole fucking mess.”

“No my love, you’re not losing me.  I know it’s been hard, the most difficult thing we’ve faced yet.  You’ve not done anything wrong, you’ve been incredibly patient with me and I’m grateful to you for giving me…time.” I looked up and he gently wiped the tears from my cheeks, “I love you.  I would never have asked you to do this if I didn’t believe it was the right thing.  Can you be strong for me, just a little longer?”

I nodded and managed to say, “O.K.”

It was the sweetest, gentlest kiss and I held onto him, trying not to cry again.

“I’ll call you tonight; let you know how your Dad is doing.”

He kissed me again and opened my door for me.  Driving away I looked in the rear view mirror as he waved, standing at the end of the driveway.  As he got smaller and smaller in the reflection it felt like more than physical distance between us.

I hoped to be on the road as early as possible, knowing that the traffic to Oxfordshire would be a nightmare on a Friday evening, so I ate lunch at my desk and kept my mobile turned off until I was done for the day.  I turned it back on to check my messages, making sure there was nothing that couldn’t wait until I got home and there was a text from Ben.

_‘’Drive safely.  I won’t say slowly, I know better.  Call me later.  I love you.’_

I texted back to let him know I was hitting the road and I ran to the coffee shop on the corner before heading out of the city.  I hated being stuck in traffic and had a tendency to get quite wound up, so I put some quiet music on and gave myself a lecture as I joined the lines of cars on the motorway.  I didn’t want to be agitated when I got to Tim and Wanda’s house, I was nervous enough already about being alone with them.

I pulled into the drive, parking behind their car and got my bag out of the back.  I took a deep breath and knocked.  The door opened and Wanda greeted me with a bright smile.

“You certainly made good time.  I didn’t expect you for at least another hour.”

“I was able to get things wrapped up early at the office.  How are you?”

She stepped back so I could go inside and she lowered her voice, “I’m relieved and grateful that you offered to come.  When I told Tim, he agreed to take a couple of days off and I think it’s made all the difference.”

She took my jacket and hung it up.

“Good, that’s what Ben and I were hoping.  So he’s feeling better?”

“Yes, much.  He still has the cough and he tires quickly but he’s determined to get outside with you tomorrow.”

I was about to answer when I heard Tim call from the kitchen.

“Stop talking about me and come say hello.”

I called back, “Yes sir, I’ll be right there.” Then to Wanda, “I’ll just take my bag upstairs first and freshen up.”

“You know where everything is and there are clean towels on your bed.  Take your time.” She said, walking toward the kitchen.

I ran upstairs and took a sweater from my overnight bag.  I dug into the side pocket for an extra pair of socks and discovered a plastic bag that I hadn’t packed.  Pulling it out and opening it, I smiled at the contents.  Ben had gotten me a pair of soft suede slippers with a wool lining and rubber treads on the bottom.  I slipped them on, feeling a little bit like an old woman, wearing slippers but already grateful for the warmth. 

I went back down to the kitchen and after Tim and I said hello with a hug, I leaned back and looked up at his face. 

“So,” he asked, “Do I pass muster?”

His voice was hoarse, maybe a little more rumbly than normal but he didn’t look bad and I was reassured.

I answered, letting go of his arms and sitting down, “I’ll reserve my final judgement until tomorrow when I get you outside and see what you’re capable of.”

“I do love a woman who doesn’t over react.” He said, glaring comically at Wanda’s back.

“Offer your friend a drink.” Wanda answered without bothering to turn around, “And do try not to cough into it.”

I snickered as Tim rolled his eyes and asked what I’d like.  There was an open bottle of red on the table and I asked for a glass of that.  I offered to help with supper but Wanda said there was nothing that needed doing, scraped some chopped potatoes off the cutting board into a pot and joined us at the table.

“You should show Kai your list so she can come up with a plan for tomorrow.”

Tim went to the other room and returned with a piece of paper which he slid across the table to me.

“Jesus, is the handwriting hereditary too?  What on earth is that supposed to say?” I asked, pointing at the first line.

Tim leaned over, squinting, “Dig out hedge.”

I looked again.

“I would have bet money it said ‘Lug but retch’.”

Wanda burst out laughing as Tim snatched the paper back in disgust.

“I’ll just read it to you, shall I?”

“Yes please.” I answered cheerfully.

We went through the list of jobs together, deciding what needed to be done first and which of us would do what.  There were a few differences of opinion when I firmly insisted upon taking all the more physically demanding jobs but with Wanda as our tie breaking vote, I won every time.

It was obvious that Tim’s cold had improved since Wanda had called on Monday but he still coughed when he talked for too long or when I made him laugh and by the time we’d eaten supper, he was getting tired.  Wanda suggested we go into the sitting room while she tidied up.

I built a fire and Tim poured us each a glass of scotch.  The three of us sat up talking until Wanda caught her husband trying to hide a yawn and she took him off to bed, telling me not to worry about making noise; that once they were in bed they’d hear nothing.  I knew they were early risers so when I finished my drink, I went upstairs to read in bed for a while, hoping it would make me tired.

I’d left the bedroom door open when I went down earlier, so the room wasn’t as cold as the last time I’d been here.  Still, I pulled an extra blanket from the cupboard before I climbed between the sheets, the squeaking of the mattress nearly enough to make me blush at the memory of the last time I’d slept here.  I called Ben.

“Your Dad is fine.  It really is just a cold and he seems to be over the worst of it.” I assured him.

“That’s good news,” he said with relief, “but you won’t let him overdo it tomorrow?”

“I won’t.  That’s the whole reason I’m here, so he can take it easy.”

I told him about the list, teasing him about his godawful penmanship and asked about his day.

“I’ve heard back from Davis about the script.”

Davis was the director of the film Ben was supposed to be doing next fall, the one with the screenplay he’d been so concerned about.  He’d done some digging, called around and found out that the screenwriter was the ex-wife of Chris, the producer.  Once he knew that, he’d asked his agent to join them for their supper meeting on Monday and they’d managed to make his position clear.  Unless the script was re-worked, he was going to have to pull out of the project.

“He called me this afternoon.  They’ve started looking for a new writer.”

“That’s fantastic.”

“It is,” he sighed, “Davis admitted he was actually glad that I’d fought them on this.  He wasn’t thrilled with the original screenplay either, but wasn’t able to get through to Chris on his own.  Now we wait and hopefully what they come up with next is up to snuff.”

I was dying to tell him how cold the bed was without him, to forget the whole no sex thing, to beg him even... but that was childish and more importantly I’d promised him.  I could tell by his voice that he wanted to know more than just whether I‘d thought I’d be home on Sunday but all he said was good night with a deep sigh.

I read for a while then turned out the light and lay listening to the unfamiliar sounds of the old cottage.  The wind had picked up and the window rattled with each gust.  I shivered when I heard the haunted house creaking of the beams in the ceiling and smiled at my foolishness, getting spooked at my age.  Eventually, I dropped off and only woke when I smelled toast and coffee.  I used the bathroom, dressed in my work clothes and went down to breakfast.

The wind from last night had blown itself out and it was cool but sunny.  We got started, Tim pulling up the last of the spent flowers from the beds at the back of the house and I wheeling barrow after barrow of mulch to the front, bedding down his glorious rose garden.  Because the cottage sat in a valley, they got more snow than we did in London, only an hour or so away, and together we wrapped each rose bush in old burlap sacks for protection. 

We took a break for lunch, Wanda heating up the left over soup from the night before and Tim, pleased with the progress we’d already made, agreed to lie down for a nap while I went back outside.  I took a cup of coffee out with me, surveying the old hedge that needed to be taken out.  It had been in place for a long time and a few exploratory jabs with the shovel proved the roots went deep, were thick and stubborn.  It was going to be a hell of a job to remove completely, but if left, the roots would come back up with vigour in the spring.  I got started.

At some point, Tim had come back out but I’d been so lost in thought that I hadn’t noticed.  I was brooding, as ever lately, about Ben and me, running through his reasoning again, trying to find new angles, to find whatever it was I hadn’t been seeing.  It wasn’t until Wanda called my name that my concentration broke.

“I’ve made lemonade.  Come take a rest.”

I took the glass she offered, acutely aware of how thirsty I was.  I took a huge sip and nearly choked.

“That’s not lemonade,” I gasped, “that’s gin with a lemon in it.”

“Potato, pot-ah-to.” She grinned.

I stood off to one side, smoking a cigarette while Tim and Wanda settled in to the chairs in the back garden.

“You’ve made a good start on that.” Tim observed.

“I have, but it’s still taking longer than I expected.  The roots are brutal.  Do you have any idea what you’re going to put in once it’s cleared out?”

“I haven’t decided yet.  I thought maybe a mix of different lilies; that spot gets a great deal of sun.”

“That would be a good choice.  You’d have flowers from spring right through to autumn.”

“I like lilies.” Wanda offered, “They make such lovely cut flowers.”

“Lilies it is then.” said Tim.

I smiled, watching as she reached out and patted his hand and they looked out over the back yard.  They were so comfortable, so content with one another.  Suddenly, I needed to hear Ben’s voice.

“There’s no way I’ll get that hedge finished today and we still have a lot to get done.  I’m going to call your son and let him know I won’t be home until Monday.”

I left them talking quietly in the garden and went inside.  Ben didn’t answer his phone so I left a voicemail, letting him know everything was going well but that I would have to stay an extra day to get through his Dad’s list.  I wished him luck at the benefit and hanging up, I stared at my phone.  I thumbed the speed dial.

“It’s me again,” I said into the phone, “I just called back to listen to your message one more time.  Silly, I know, but I miss you.” ~~~~

I hung up, realizing that in the pursuit of time away to think, one simple truth hadn’t occurred to me: that I’d rather be frustrated and silent with him than sad and feeling empty without him. ~~~~

Back in the garden, I finished my ‘lemonade’ and then, slightly unsteady on my feet, got back to work on the hedge.  I dug away at it until it was starting to get dark and when it began to rain, Wanda came outside, absolutely insisting that I stop and come in for supper.  I had a quick shower and we ate.  This time, I wouldn’t let her push me out of the kitchen and we did the dishes together.  I washed while she dried and put things away.

“Ben tells me your parents are coming for Christmas.”

“Yes, my Mum emailed last week and it looks like they’ll be able to stay for at least a couple of weeks.  And my brother is trying to get the time off too.”

“Tell me about your brother.”

“Finn?  He’s an investigative journalist, absolutely brilliant and funny as hell.”

“Finn; is that a family name?”

“No, Mum and Dad just liked the sound of it.  It’s actually Finnegan.”

“Good lord, really?  Finnegan and Kai make Benedict sound positively average.” I chuckled and she asked, “Is he older or younger?”

“He’s a couple of years younger.”

“Yes, that makes sense.  Older siblings are usually confident, take charge sorts of people.”

“Bossy.”

“Confident.” She repeated and patted me on the shoulder.

“I hope he can come, I think you’d like him.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting your family.” She smiled devilishly, “I’m dying to learn more about your less than traditional upbringing.”

“Oh god, I wonder if it’s too late to cancel.”

“Yes, it is.  In all seriousness I’m really am curious to know more about you Kai.”

“You don’t have to wait and quiz my family.  If you want to know something, ask me.  I don’t have any secrets.”

She reached up and put the last plate on the shelf.

“Let’s go see if Tim’s fallen asleep on the sofa.  And I’ll try and think what I was going to ask your parents.”

Tim was reading in his armchair so Wanda and I took the couch and chatted.  She did ask more about my life before I’d come to England and I answered her questions, but I felt she’d only been teasing me about grilling my family for information.  She was so much more relaxed and open than when I’d been here before with Ben.  I wondered why; if it was because of the talk she and I had had then or if she’d discussed our relationship with Tim, or maybe she’d finally realized how serious Ben and I were and that he was happy.  At least, I had thought he was happy until last week.

Wanda reached out and put her hand on my arm, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“You sighed.  And your face went all funny.”

“I’m fine.  I was thinking about Ben.”

“God, I remember those days,” Tim said, “when even one day seemed too long to be apart.”

“Oh please,” Wanda scoffed, “you still get shirty when I spend the night in London.”

“Yes well, that’s because I love you,” As Tim went on I looked up in surprise, “and you know I don’t sleep well when you aren’t here.”

I smiled as Wanda got up and kissed him on the forehead.

“Come on then; I’ll tuck you in and everything.”

I waited until the bathroom was free and I turned off the lights and went up to bed.  As I got undressed, I stretched, my back cracking loudly.  It had been a long time since I’d worked as hard as I had today and I was going to be sore in the morning.  And I had more of the same to look forward to tomorrow.  I was tired enough that I didn’t bother trying to read, just turned the light off and pulled the blankets up to my ears, hearing the rain pattering on the window and waiting to get warm.

I woke with a start.  The wind had picked up and I wondered if that was what I’d heard.  I listened, and there it was again – a quiet creak on the stairs, definitely not the same as the sounds I’d heard the night before.  My heart was beating in my ears as I sat up, trying to be quiet but the damned mattress squealed as my weight shifted.  The bedroom door slowly swung open and I heard a whisper.

“Kai?”

“Ben?”

He shut the door behind him, came and sat on the bed.  I moved over, straight into his arms.  He turned his head and kissed my neck while I squeezed the living daylights out of him, pressing myself against his familiar, solid body.

“I got your message.  I missed you too.”

“Tim’s not my favourite, you are.” I whispered, “You’re my favourite person in the world.”

“I came straight from the benefit.” He spoke between kisses, “I didn’t even stop for a change of clothes.”

“You should probably take these off then.” I said, running my hand down his chest, “You wouldn’t want them to get all wrinkled.”

“That’s what I thought too.  Give me a minute, I need to use the loo.”

I lay down, waiting for him, my heart still beating hard, but no longer from fear.

He undressed by the window, laying his clothes over the chair and slipped into bed with me.

“Mmm, you’re warm.” He said as I rolled onto my side to get closer to him, “And you’re wearing pajamas.  I thought you were going to sleep in the buff?”

“This house is too cold to sleep naked, when you’re alone.”

I pulled the blankets up to my chin and rested my head on his shoulder, my fingers playing with his chest hair.  A hint of bergamot caught my attention.

“Did you use my body oil?”

“I did.  I wanted to be able to smell your scent on my skin.”

“Oh god,” I groaned, “don’t say things like that.”

“Sorry.”

But he wasn’t.  I could hear he was smiling when he said it.

“I wish you’d brought it with you, I could use a back rub.”

“Just as well I didn’t then.  I’m not sure I’d be able to stop myself giving you a happy ending.”

We giggled, the bed protesting noisily.

“Kai?”

“Mm-hmm?”

His hand moved down my back to pluck at my waistband, “You’re not alone now.  Maybe take these off?”

A little thrill ran through my belly.

“And why would I do that?”

He turned his head and whispered, “Because you hate pajamas.  Because when you wrap your leg around mine, I want to feel your skin, soft against mine.  Because I asked you to.”

I swallowed and it was loud enough that I knew he’d heard it.

“Yeah, O.K. that works for me.”

I heard a soft chuckle as I wriggled my pajama pants down and kicked them out the side of the bed.  Then, as he’d requested, I slid my leg over his, tucking my foot between his calves.  He tightened his arms around me.

“That’s better,” he said, kissing the top of my head, “my beautiful girl.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

“When you said you missed me, what it sounded like you were saying was that you needed me.”

I raised myself on my elbow so I could kiss him and his hand cupped my cheek.

“That is what I was saying.  I needed you and you came.”

“Always.”

The exhaustion of the day’s work caught up with me in the dark, lying in his arms.  Though I would have loved nothing more than to see if he’d let me take him in my mouth and make him moan my name, or to feel his hands on my body, touching the places he knew drove me wild, I only kissed him again and wrapped myself around him, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. 

The ancient mattress did have one advantage that made up for its noisiness – it had a distinct dip in the centre that made it hard to sleep on one side or the other.  When I woke in the morning, Ben and I were still curled together.  I stretched and his hand came up to push my hair off my face.

“Good morning.”

“Yes, it is.” I said as he rolled over to kiss me.

I could have happily stayed there with him, warm under the blankets but there that damned hedge to take care of and I knew I had a full day ahead of me.  I got up to use the bathroom, got dressed and went downstairs.  I discovered I was the first one up so I put the kettle on and opened the fridge, figuring I’d get breakfast started.  Ben soon joined me and he put the bacon in the pan while I made a pot of coffee for us and refilled the kettle for Tim and Wanda’s tea.

Wanda was the next one up, rolling her shirtsleeves as she came into the kitchen.  She looked at Ben in surprise.

“Where did you come from?”

“London.” He deadpanned.

“Don’t be smart.  You know what I mean; when did you get here?”

“Around one o’clock.” He said, bending to kiss her cheek, “I was driving home after the benefit wrapped up and I decided I’d like to see for myself how Dad was doing.  Besides, I don’t sleep well when Kai isn’t home.”

Wanda caught my eye as I turned to put the teapot on the table and she smiled, “That sounds oddly familiar.”

“What does?” He asked.

“Your Dad was complaining of the same ailment last night; he doesn’t like it when I stay in the city.”

I passed Ben a cup of coffee and he sat at the table.  Wanda tried to get up and take over making breakfast but I told her I’d finish and she sat, talking with Ben about the play.  They were chattering away about the rehearsal process when Tim came down.  While he and Ben said hello and Ben looked him over, assessing his condition, I cracked eggs into the pan.

We pulled breakfast together and served it, lingering over our coffee when we were done.  Finally, I decided I had better get moving or I’d never get through Tim’s list of tasks.  Tim and I went outside and he disappeared around the front of the house while I got started.  I’d been working for a while when Ben came out, a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. 

“I thought you didn’t bring a change of clothes.”

He was wearing a lumpy old sweater over his dress shirt and jeans, tucked into a pair of wellies.

“I left a pair of jeans here at some point and I borrowed the jumper and boots from Dad.”

“You look very nice; much more appropriate to the surroundings.” I grinned.

“Thank you.  I do try.”

I went back to work and he sat in one of the chairs, opening his book.  A few minutes later, Tim came around the side of the cottage, pushing the wheelbarrow.  He dumped the contents onto the burn pile and turned, surveying the scene before him.

“Benedict.” He said quietly.

“Yes Dad?”

“Do you mind telling me what exactly you think you’re doing?”

I looked up; I’d never heard this tone of annoyance from Tim before. 

“I’m reading.”

“You’re sitting on your arse with a book in your hand while your…while she…” he sputtered, “Get up!” He said, taking his work gloves off and throwing them down on the table in front of Ben, “Put these on and go help her.”

Ben leapt up, grabbing the gloves as Tim stalked away, muttering under his breath.  I could just make out a few phrases, ‘unbelievable’ and ‘lazy sod’ as he went into the house, grabbing another pair of work gloves.  He retrieved the wheelbarrow and headed back the way he’d come without a backward glance.

“Jesus…” Ben marvelled.

“Ooh, you got in trouble.”  And I burst out laughing.

“Did I ever.  He hasn’t spoken to me like that in years.” He said, “Quick, help me find a shovel before he comes back and shouts at me again.”

I pointed to the side of the house where I had lined up the tools I was using, “I’ll stick with the shovel and you can use the pitchfork.  If you loosen the soil ahead of me, that’ll make it easier to dig.”

It took a few tries and I had to show him what I wanted him to do, but he was a very willing helper and pretty soon, we had a good rhythm down.  It did go much more quickly with him working in front of me, and when he got too far ahead, he’d go back and pull out by hand what I’d dug up, adding it to the burn pile.  Wanda brought us each a glass of her special lemonade and said she’d call us when lunch was ready.  By the time she did, we had the entire hedge removed.

We went inside and washed up.  Tim was already at the table, reading the newspaper and Wanda put a platter of sandwiches down as we sat.  Tim calmly folded his paper, set it aside and looked at his son.

“The woman you love came up here, giving up her weekend and has been working like dog for me, your father.  And you had the nerve to sit on your arse with a book?  What on earth were you thinking?”

“In my defense,” Ben said calmly, “I’m not only aware how capable Kai is, but most of the time when I offer to help her with things she says no anyway.”

“Did you offer?”

“Well, no.” Ben admitted.

Tim shook his head, “Next time, do.  It has nothing to do with Kai’s capability.  Be a gentleman for God’s sake.  That’s how you were raised.”

“I’m sorry Dad.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” Tim said, reaching for a sandwich.

Ben looked at me, “Kai, I’m sorry.  I should, at the very least, have asked if I could help you.”

I covered my mouth as I looked at Ben’s face, but even so, a squeak of laughter escaped from behind my hand.  His expression changed, from embarrassment to a glint of amusement and I was done for.  Tim feigned disgust at my glee.

“Honestly.  How am I supposed to teach the boy anything when you’re sitting there, being a poor influence?”

“I’m sorry,” I giggled, “but he’s 38 years old and the look on his face was priceless.  No one can make you feel more childish than a parent, no matter how old you are.”

“That was the point,” he said dryly, “until you ruined the effect by laughing.”

“Well, at least one good thing came of your lecture.  The hedge is finished.  We should be able to clear the rest of your list before suppertime.”

“Good.  You and I can work together and Benedict can tend to the burn pile.  It’s a filthy job and one I dislike intensely.”

“Nothing like driving up in the middle of the night to see how your sick father is, only to be treated as a second class citizen.” Ben muttered.

“Serves you right.  And don’t pretend you came for me.”

Ben patted Tim’s arm, “It was partly to see you.”

“Wretched boy.” Tim growled.

When lunch was finished, I went back out with Tim while Ben stayed behind, saying he wanted to help Wanda with the dishes.  I was on my knees in one of the front beds, planting bulbs when the acrid smell of burning leaves filled the air.

“Ah, he’s started.” Tim said, leaning on his shovel, “Good.”

I looked up, catching the twinkle in his eye.

“For what it’s worth, it’s true that I usually say no when he offers to help me.  I’m used to doing most things for myself.”

“The fact that you can do a thing for yourself doesn’t mean you should always have to.  And you don’t have to defend him.  It can’t hurt to have his father remind him that he’s no different than anyone else.”

Patting the soil down with my hand, I considered what Tim was saying.

“So, you’re keeping him humble?”

“I suppose.  You said it didn’t matter what age you are, a parent can always get to you.  That’s true, and in the same way, it doesn’t matter how old he is, he’ll always be my son.  It’s my job to build him up when he’s down and, if necessary, to knock him down a peg or two if he’s getting above himself.” 

I reached for the box of bulbs, scooping a couple out, “You and Wanda did a good job with him.  He’s a lovely man.”

“And you are a lovely woman.  Besides, you don’t take any of his nonsense.  You’re good for him.”

I blushed, keeping my head down and I couldn’t help but smile.  I was proud that he thought so.

By four o’clock, I had all the big jobs I’d wanted to get out of the way for Tim done.  He’d gone inside about an hour earlier to lie down and I gathered up all the tools, going to the back yard to put them away in the shed.  Ben was raking the coals from the fire, spreading them out and getting ready to hose them down.  I went and stood beside him, grinning at the smear of soot on his cheek where he’d wiped his face with his filthy hand.

“You look like a real gardener with your dirty face and hands.”

“Glad you approve.” He stretched, rolling his shoulders, “It’s hard work.  And you’ve missed this?”

“I have and Myra should be ready to take over for me in the office by the end of the week so I’ll be doing more of this and less sitting on my ass.”

“And you’re looking forward to that.”

I nodded, “I am.  And I’m not as tough as I used to be; I’m looking forward to getting back in shape too.”

“Well I’m happy for you, but I have to say, I just don’t get the appeal.  Dad’s like you, he loves all this,” He threw his arm around my shoulders, “but it’s really not my sort of thing.”

“There’s a certain sense of accomplishment that comes with seeing things bloom and knowing what it’s taken to make it happen.  You might feel differently if it were your own house.  Or, you may not.” I grinned as he cocked an eyebrow at me, "Good thing you’ve got me to do it all for you.”

“On the list of things that make me grateful for you, I’m afraid your green thumb is distinctly close to the bottom.”

“You have a list?  Can I see it?”

“Not a chance.  Your head would swell like a balloon.  So, what’s left to be done?” He sighed.

“Nothing for me or you, there are only a couple of little things left and your Dad said I was to leave them for him.”

“Hmm, I wonder if Mum would let us leave before supper.”

She not only made us stay to eat but even tried to talk us into spending another night.  Ben insisted though, bringing up the one thing a fellow actor couldn’t argue with: he had rehearsal in the morning, hadn’t brought his script with him and had lines to learn.  I went upstairs and packed my bag, deciding to leave the slippers in the bedroom closet for the next time I was here.  I dropped my bag by the stairs and went into the kitchen to let Ben know I was ready to go.

At the front door, I hugged both Tim and Wanda good bye, brushing off Tim’s repeated thanks.

“It’s what I do Tim, so any time you need a hand, please don’t hesitate to ask.  I’m always happy to come up and help out.”

He stood in the doorway as Wanda walked Ben to his car.  I got into my SUV and waited, watching as Wanda leaned into Ben’s open window, the two of them talking.  She patted him on the arm and he craned his neck to kiss her cheek, then started his car and pulled up next to me.

“Wanna race?” I asked through my open window, “I’ll give you a head start.”

“Kai, my love?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck off.” He said and gunned his engine as he sped out of the driveway.

Laughing, I followed him out onto the road where I behaved myself and stayed behind him, all the way to London.  Once home, Ben went straight to the sofa, getting to work on his script but I could feel that something had changed over the weekend.  The air of isolation, the heaviness had lifted.  It felt almost normal again.  Spending the day working together, talking like we always had and most importantly, being distracted from the confusion and turmoil of the past week had probably been better for us than being apart.  But for me, what mattered most was that he’d understood when I’d called him what I really needed, so he’d dropped everything and come to me.  That he’d read me so well gave me hope that everything wasn’t falling apart as I’d feared and that maybe, we’d be alright in the end.  And our night there together had reinforced that we could be together, could be close to each other when we needed it without it always turning into sex.

I threw my dirty work clothes in the washer and dug through the fridge, pulling together a couple of lunches for work.  As Ben came into the kitchen, I was reaching for a box of crackers on the top shelf and I grunted as I stretched.  My muscles were tightening up after a weekend of hard labour. 

He reached over my head to get the box down for me.

“You must be sore after all you did for Dad this weekend.”  He said, resting his hands on my shoulders and rubbing lightly.

I nodded, “I haven’t worked that hard in a while.”

“Why don’t you go up and have a hot bath before bed?”

“That sounds good,” I leaned back against him, “You won’t stay up too late?”

“No,” He leaned down and kissed the nape of my neck, “I’ve only got a couple of pages left to get through.  I’ll be up soon.”

I went up and ran a bath, pouring in some bubble bath and I got my book.  I was soaking and trying to read but the hot water was making me sleepy and I couldn’t concentrate.  I dropped the book on the floor and sank lower in the water, thinking about Ben, thinking that it had been a little over a week since we’d made love and how that part wasn’t getting any easier.  I hadn’t even given in and touched myself.  I could have; we’d never said we wouldn’t, but somehow it felt like the wrong thing to do, like I’d be cheating on our agreement.

I was snapped from my reverie by a light knock at the door.

“May I come in?”

“Of course.”

“Would you like a nightcap?”

Ice tinkled against glass as he offered me a tumbler of whiskey.

“I would.  Thank you.”

 I took the glass, the outside already sweating in the warmth of the bathroom.

“Do you mind if I stay? I thought maybe you’d like me to wash your hair.”

“Is that wise?” I smiled at him over the top of my glass, “We have something of a history with this bath tub.”

“I haven’t forgotten but you’re the one who said we couldn’t let temptation stand in our way and you were right.  We should be able to touch each other without getting carried away.”

“In that case, yes please.”

He turned the dimmer to lower the lights.  Opening the cupboard under the sink, he found the jug he’d used the last time and he came and knelt next to the bath.  I sat up and scooted closer to him, setting my glass on the rim of the tub.

“Pass me the shampoo and conditioner.” He said.

He put the bottles on the floor next to him, rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and dipped the jug into the water.  He doused my head until my hair was soaked, added shampoo and started to lather me up.  I sighed as his fingers massaged my scalp, working the bubbles through to the ends of my hair.  My nipples puckered and I raised my knees to cover myself, not wanting him to stop.

“Put your legs down.” He said softly and when I did, his shampoo slippery fingers moved down my neck and over my collar bones.

My eyes were closed because of the suds dripping down my forehead and his hand slid over my breast, grazing the nipple.  It tightened as he squeezed it between his thumb and fingers.  It felt so much longer than nine days since he’d last touched me this way and I leaned into him, the sensation heightened with my eyes closed.  He kissed my shoulder and his hand was gone, the warm water pouring over my head as he rinsed.  I wiped water from my face and looked at him as he reached for the conditioner. 

“Um, what are we doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” he said cheekily, “but I’m washing your hair.”

“I see.  It’s very nice.”

“Shall I continue?”

“Yes please.”

He worked the conditioner through the length of my hair, gently pulling out the tangles and I relaxed, letting my head drop forward.  He moved behind me, his hands slippery with conditioner, working down the long muscles of my back, finding the knots, kneading, soothing the ache.

He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me in for a kiss.  His tongue stroked across my lower lip and I sucked it into my mouth.  Grasping his forearm, I shuddered as he pulled back, his eyes sparkling.

Still clinging to him, I turned my head and whispered in his ear, “How is this not sex?”

“It sort of is, I guess.” He admitted, “But I don’t think it breaks the rules.”

Smiling to myself, I whispered again, “Why not?”

“Um…give me a minute, I’ll think of something.”

I leaned back, looked into his eyes, “Can I reciprocate?  While you’re thinking?”

He sighed, his face serious now, “As much as I’m dying to say yes, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He pushed my wet hair out of my eyes, “Let’s just leave it at this, for now, alright?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“No, it’s definitely not what I want but I think it’s better if we don’t give in now.  Well, don’t give in any further.” He smiled ruefully.

He rinsed the conditioner until the water ran clear then helped me out of the tub and he went to change out of his wet clothes while I dried my hair.  I put on a long t-shirt and climbed onto the bed, crossing my legs and facing him.

“I need to ask you about something.”

He put his script down and waited.

“Have you noticed that we’re sleeping apart?”

“We’ve slept together every night except Friday.” He said, confused.

“I meant, every night, we’ve gone to sleep the way we always do, all wrapped around each other but in the morning, we’re on opposite sides of the bed.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” He frowned, thinking, “But all last week you were getting up earlier than I was so we weren’t waking up together.”

“I was waking up early because I was cold.  You had the duvet.  And you were over there.” I pointed at the far side of the bed.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’m not sure.  Most mornings I was gone before you were up or there wasn’t enough time to bring it up it before we had to leave.  And I wasn’t sure if it was only a coincidence or if I was being overly sensitive or what.  But waking up in your arms this morning in that terrible bed,” I smiled tightly, “where we couldn’t move away from each other, I realized how much I need it, how much I miss it – and it worries me that we aren’t doing it anymore.  I don’t like it.”

“You think it means something?”

“Ben, the main reason I agreed to your plan was because you seemed so certain it would help us to be sure that we were supposed to be together and that it would bring us closer.  I’m scared that it’s doing the opposite.  I’m scared that without the physical reassurance we’ve been pulling away from each other emotionally and that the way we’re sleeping is a reflection of that.”

“And I hadn’t even noticed.  Fuck.” He exhaled the word, “So, what do we do now?  I mean, if you’re right then that by itself answers a great many of my questions.”

“And that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”  I asked and he nodded slowly, the lines on his forehead deepening as he frowned, “Look; I think it’s fair to say that this hasn’t been easy on either of us.  So when I was planning to go away for the weekend, I was actually looking forward to getting out of here.  I thought it would be good for us to have some time apart to think, especially since last week was so fucking awful.  But once I was there, I realized I’d never felt so disconnected from you.  To tell the truth, if you hadn’t read between the lines and come up…I’m not sure what would have happened when I came home.”

He dropped his script to the floor and reached for my hands, “I knew you were unhappy but I hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten.”

“It’s not just missing the sex; it’s the way we were tiptoeing around each other, walking on eggshells.  We’ve never been that way before, we’ve always said if something was getting on our nerves or making us angry.  We stopped having sex so we could find out if we could talk through the hard stuff and instead of doing that, we shut down and turned away from each other, internalizing.  That’s just wrong.” I squeezed his hands hard in mine, “That’s not us.”

“You’re right.”  He looked down, thinking and when he looked back up the pain in his eyes was like a knife in my belly, “I suppose that’s my answer then; isn’t it?”

I knew what he was saying - I’d confirmed his worst fears; that when we removed sex from our relationship, we were lost, adrift from each other and we began to unravel.

“Yes and no.  Without being able to be physical with each other, we’ve sort of fallen apart.  But neither of us has given up, right?  We’re still here, talking and we’re holding on.”

He smiled, looked relieved, “No, we haven’t, and yes, we are.”

“I think one thing that we’ve both lost sight of is that this is an artificial situation.  This would never happen in our regular life, unless it was because you were on location somewhere and we know how to deal with that because we’ve done it over and over again.  We imposed this on ourselves, set rules like it was something bad we wanted to prevent, and not this incredible bond we share. You wanted to know if we could get through the tough times without resorting to taking out our frustrations physically.  Well, guess what?  This is the toughest thing we’ve been through so far and no, we haven’t handled it perfectly, either one of us, but we’re doing it.  We haven’t quit.  So, Jesus, I can’t believe I’m saying this – but, we’ve already gone this long.  I think we should finish the two weeks.”

“You do?  I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Neither was I.  Honestly though, do you feel like you’ve figured out everything you needed to figure out? Does it feel like whatever made you think of this is resolved?”

“No.  Not fully.” He sounded apologetic.

“No, I didn’t think so.  Let’s finish this properly.  Even if you don’t have all your answers at the end of the next five days, at least we’ll both feel like we did it justice.  And, I need you to understand how important it is to me that you get what you need from this.”

He looked into my eyes, his hand coming up to stroke my cheek and he sighed deeply, “I think you’re right; if we stop now, I’ll always wonder ‘what if?’ and it’ll drive me mad.  I need to know.”

I nodded, “So do I.”  

“But what do we do about the sleeping apart?  I don’t like that any more than you do.”

“I did have one idea,” I rose onto my knees and took my t-shirt off, throwing the hateful garment to the floor, “No more clothes in bed.”

“Did that work the other night, the night you sang for me?” He asked, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Well, no.  But besides the fact that we both prefer sleeping naked, the added bonus is that if you do move away from me and hog the blanket, I’ll get cold and wake up.  And this time, I’ll wake you up and make you come back to me.  Deal?”

He flipped the duvet back and patted the mattress, “Deal.”

I slid in next to him and he put his glasses on the nightstand.  I placed my hand in the centre of his chest, gently pushing him back into the pillows and moved over, kneeling between his legs.

“What are you doing?” He asked quietly.

“Hold still.  I miss the way you taste.”

Bending over him, I kissed him lightly on the mouth.  He hadn’t shaved in a week and his stubble was getting longer, softer to the touch.  Slowly, I moved lower.  I ran my lips over his throat, down his chest and stomach.  My tongue darted out, tracing the waist of his boxers and exhaling, I blew cool air over his stomach, feeling goosebumps spring up under my lips.

“Kai, that’s…oh god…stop.”

“In a minute.” I said, letting him feel my fingernails on his hips as I pulled his shorts off.

I didn’t look down.  I knew better, knew I didn’t possess that kind of willpower.  My eyes on his, I moved back up to kiss his mouth again and lowered my body onto him, my head on his chest.

“Turn the light off.”

His heart thumped loudly in my ear.

“You’re sleeping there?”

“Yes.  Turn the light off.” I said, willing myself not to move, feeling his hardness pressed against my belly.

“You’re evil.  Have I mentioned lately that you’re fucking evil?  And stop laughing, that’s not helping at all.”

I woke once, in the dark, to feel Ben’s arm snaking under my back.

Groggy, I asked, “What are..?”

He pulled me to his chest, rubbing the top of my head with his chin, “That’s better.  Go back to sleep my love.”

I did, with a smile on my face and only woke again when Ben brought me coffee in bed.  I sat up taking the cup he offered and drank it while he sat across from me, reading me the front page of the newspaper.  When I’d finished my coffee, I got dressed and when I went downstairs, found that he’d packed my lunch and poured a second cup of coffee into a travel mug for me.

“I could get used to this.” I said, pulling my boots on.

“Coffee in bed?  Having your lunch made?”

I grinned up at him, “Having a wife.”  

He laughed, “Build that business of yours up so you can keep me in the style to which I’ve become accustomed and maybe I’ll consider staying home more.”

“You’re so full of shit.” I said, standing up and taking my pack from him, “There’s no amount of money that would make you quit working.  You love it too much.”

“I love you more.  I dropped one of the films I was going to do next year.”

“What?  Which one and when did that happen?”

“Remember the one about the writer that was going to be filming in Africa?  They kept changing the dates and the financing was starting to look a bit dicey, so I backed out.  That means two months at the end of next summer when I don’t have anything booked.”

I was stunned, “You didn’t do that for me, did you?”

“Partly.  Don’t look so horrified.  There really were legitimate reasons to step away.  If they get themselves organized I may change my mind, but for now, maybe I’ll take some time off.  We can take a vacation, go somewhere for your birthday.”

He’d put his hands on my hips, stepping in close.  I looked up at him, his beautiful face peaceful and happy.  I was thrilled at what a difference the weekend and some honest communication had made in both our moods.  Getting a little touchy-feely probably hadn’t hurt either, but it was mostly the communication.  Probably.   I stood on my toes and kissed him.

“I have to go.  Myra’s starting today and it wouldn’t look good if I was late.”

“Alright, off you go.  I should be home by seven or so.”

“I’ll make you something nice to eat.  Text me if you have any requests.”

I wasn’t late but Myra was waiting for me anyway.  I unlocked the door and we moved a second chair behind my desk so we could sit together.  For today, I figured she could just observe and ask questions and as the week progressed, I’d shift more of the job onto her.  We started with the scheduling book and I explained how I tried to keep certain employees together, realizing that was something she likely already understood, since Martin and her husband Phil had been a team since long before I’d begun working there.  Certain personalities worked better together, of course, but I also tried to pair more experienced workers with newer ones.  And some clients were also very particular about who did their gardens, had developed a relationship with them over the years.  We had a book for that too, client preferences with brief descriptions of the work we’d done for them and plans for the future.  While I started on the phone messages from over the weekend, I gave Myra the book to study.

“You’re welcome to make copies, take them home to learn if you prefer.  But I don’t expect you to memorize them or anything; the book is here for a reason.”

“I may just do that, at least to get familiar with the more long term clients.  I like being able to provide a personal touch with customers on the phone.”

“Me too,” I agreed, “and it can be very helpful to smooth out any conflicts if you can ask after their kids by name or remember that they have a dog that’s about to have puppies, like Eloise Petersen who I’m just about to call and who left a very cranky message about her dying ivy.”

Myra went to the photocopier while I dialed Mrs. Petersen, one of our more difficult customers.  As soon as she heard my voice, she immediately began complaining, sure that ‘the new girl’ I’d sent over the previous week had done something to cause the ivy on the side of the house to fail.  I sympathised and promised to come and see for myself and before she could go off again, I asked about Pearl and her puppies.  And it worked like a charm except that I then had to listen to 10 minutes of veterinary horror stories.  Still, she was no longer annoyed with us by the time I was able to get off the phone.

“You seem to have a knack for conflict resolution.” Myra said with a grin.

“Misdirection, pure and simple,” I said, making a face, “but now I have to go see her in person.”

Myra was smart and confident and by the end of the day, she’d already begun taking phone calls as long as I was there to listen and help with the calendar.  I felt sure that by the end of the week she’d be completely comfortable being on her own in the office.

I stopped by the store on the way home to pick up a few things.  Ben had texted in the afternoon, two words: ‘Shepherd’s Pie?’

I had just popped the pan in the oven when he got home.  We had a glass of wine and told each other about our days.

“I’d like to take you out to dinner on Friday.”

“That would be nice, but wouldn’t you rather wait and do it on Saturday?  We can celebrate.”

“I’m not here on Saturday lovely.  I’m going to Paris, remember?”

I hadn’t looked at the calendar we kept in his office since we’d filled it in and only now recalled that he was flying out Saturday morning to film something for French television and wouldn’t be home until Sunday night.

“Sorry, I’d forgotten.” I leaned back in my chair, tracing the rim of my wineglass with my finger, contemplating, “So, Friday…”

“What about it?” he asked innocently.

“Will you shave before we go out?”

“Yes.” He slowly rubbed his bearded jaw, “Would you like to watch?”

I nodded.

“And what will you do for me in return?” He asked and my stomach flipped.

“No Benedict voice,” I whispered, “You promised.”

He just smiled, “Should’ve kept your hands to yourself last night then.”

“I barely used my hands at all.” I protested.

He laughed and the spell he’d cast with one sentence was broken.  We ate together in front of the TV, did the washing up and then he went to his office to answer emails and make a few calls to the States while I read on the sofa.  Thinking about our calendar, I recalled that I had been planning to have Charlie take me shopping.  There were a couple of events coming up that I’d need new clothes for and now I wanted to get something pretty for Friday night.  I wondered if Myra would be ready to be on her own by then and if maybe I could play hooky and get away early.  I got my laptop and emailed Charlie to see if he was busy.  A couple of minutes later, my mobile rang.

“I’m supposed to be having lunch with the most boring editorial team on the planet,” he said, “so really, you’d be doing me a favour.”

“Can I confirm in a couple of days?  I need to be sure I can get out of the office.”

“No problem.  In the meantime, send me another email.  I’ll need to know what the events are, where and how formal.  I’ll do some advance recon.”

“I’ll do it now.  And Charlie, this is your job and I should be paying you for your time, so keep track O.K?”

“Don’t be stupid.  Just remember to drop my name if anyone asks who dressed you.  I’ll take free publicity over cash any day.  Or, if you can swing it, get me an invite to something good, like a premiere.”

I told him I’d see what I could do and when we hung up, I went down the hall to Ben’s office to see what we had coming up. 

“I’ll come by some time in the afternoon,” I heard Ben say as I walked down the hall, “That way, if there’s anything we need to change, you’ll still have a couple of days.”

He looked up when I came into the room and said into the phone, “I have to go.  See you tomorrow.”

Hanging up, he asked, “Did you need something?”

“I have to take a look at our calendar.  Charlie needs to know what we’re shopping for.”

“Have a seat.” He patted his leg.

I sat on his lap and reached for a pen and a piece of paper.  We looked over the next couple of months while I decided which things I needed new clothes for.  None of them were huge events; there were two fundraisers and couple of dinners as well as a young playwrights’ awards gala.  The awards and one of the fundraisers were semi-formal and the rest, more casual but Ben told me to get something new for each one, since there would be photographers. 

“You may as well start building up your wardrobe.  Get 8 or 10 dresses now and shoes as well then you’ll have enough to cycle through until spring.”

“Ten dresses?  For crying out loud, I have enough trouble finding one that I like.”

“Just tell Charlie what you need.  He did a fantastic job the last time.”

“Do you have any idea what this is going to cost?” I was already appalled at the thought.

“Yes, if it’s anything like my suits, I have a pretty good idea.  Don’t worry about that part of it, please?  I’m asking you to come with me and I know you’d never spend this kind of money on yourself.  And even if I do think you’re most beautiful like that,” he pointed at the picture of me on his wall, no makeup, my hair loose, “I also love the way you look when you’re dressed up and you get all nervous and shy.  It’s sweet the way you’re actually less confident the more glamourous you look.”

I turned my head to look at him over my shoulder.

“You’re so weird.”

“I am?  Why?”

“What does that say about you, that you like it when I’m feeling insecure?” I teased.

“No, not insecure, but slightly less sure of yourself than usual.  It’s sexy as hell because you know what it does to me when you let me lead,” He nuzzled my back, “When you soften your edges and go all submissive.”

The back of my neck prickled as the hairs stood up and I turned, pulling my legs up and pressing my nose to his neck, inhaling his smell as he put his arms around me.  His hand moved up and down my back, his nails scratching lightly through my shirt.

“I love you.” We said at the same time and I giggled.

The landline on his desk rang and he groaned, “I’m sorry, I’ve been waiting for this call.  I have to answer.”

I quickly got up, kissing him on the nose and taking the piece of paper with my notes back to the other room so I could email Charlie.  I hit ‘send’ and could hear Ben was still on the phone.  I stuck my head around the corner and mouthed that I was going up to bed.  He nodded and rolled his eyes, pointing at the phone and making the universal ‘talks too much’ gesture with his hand. 

I left the lamp on his side of the bed on and crawled under the duvet.  I thought about how far we’d come and how different this week was to the last.  The tension was still there but the reason for it had shifted.  Before it had been uncertainty and frustration both physical and emotional and even lashing out at one another; irritable and sharp.  Now there was excitement, anticipation and I was feeling safer, confident that together, we would find our way to the end of this and that maybe Ben had even been right, that we would be stronger and know each other better for having done this.

The hall light came on and I heard him coming up the stairs.

“Are you awake?” He whispered.

“Yes.”

“Good.  Wait for me; I’ll only be a minute.”

When he got into bed, he kissed me goodnight, leaning over me, the taste of his toothpaste sharp on my tongue.  He put his head on my chest and let his hand rest on my hip.

“Four days.” I said.

“Go to sleep.” He answered.

And in the morning, when I shut my alarm off, he looked at me from his pillow and smiled.

“Not perfect,” he said, “but better.”

I was on my back, he on his stomach, but his arm was around my waist and the duvet still covered us both.

“I’ll take it.” I said, reaching over to ruffle his hair, “Stay here, I’ll bring you a coffee.”

I did my hair and got dressed while he stayed in bed with the paper, reading me articles and bitching about politics.  I sat next to him, zipping up my boots, asking about his plans for tonight, since he had mentioned an old friend from university being in town.

“We’re meeting after rehearsal; just a few of us, getting together for a drink and a meal.  I’d have asked you to come along but it’s a sort of boy’s night out.”

“That’s alright; you’ll probably spend all your time talking about people I don’t know anyway. Where’s he in town from?”

“Hong Kong.  He does something complicated in finance that I’ve never really understood.  He and David and I shared a house for a while and he used to win all our pocket money playing poker.”

“I did the same thing with my brother’s friends when I was babysitting.  I used to take them for all their allowance.”

“With your face the only people you could beat at poker would be children.”

“It wasn’t poker.  I taught them to bet playing ‘Go Fish’.”

He cracked up and I felt my heart leap at the joy on his face.

Again, Myra had gotten to the office ahead of me and very sweetly, had brought me a coffee from the shop on the corner.  We got settled and by noon, she was taking all the phone calls and had moved over to the other desk.  For lunch we went to the café across the street and afterward, I unlocked the office for her and left her on her own so I could run to the hardware store and get a spare set of keys cut.

I walked in and dropped them on her desk as she was hanging up the phone.

“That was Beth McPhail,” Myra told me, “She says two of their Koi have died and she thinks there’s a problem with the pump for the pond.”

“Did she say why she thinks that?”

“There’s algae and the water looks stagnant.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” I muttered, “If there’s already algae, the pump’s probably been on the fritz for a while.  Why are they only noticing now that the fish are dying?”

I was annoyed for a couple of reasons.  I’d installed that water feature and had taught the McPhail’s how to maintain the pump and filtration system and second, Koi weren’t cheap and if the error was ours, I’d have to pay to replace them.

“I wasn’t sure who to call to go over and see to it.” Myra said, “Everyone is booked straight through the week.”

“That’s alright; I should probably go over there myself and have a look.  You can come with me if you like, it probably won’t take more than an hour or so and we can catch up together when we get back.”

“Actually, I think I’m O.K. on my own.  I can always call your mobile if I come up against anything I can’t handle.”

“Myra, you have no idea how happy I am to have you working here.  Could you call her and tell her I’m on my way please?  And I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I knocked at the front door and Beth let me in, leading me through to the back garden.  She explained that they’d been away over the weekend and when she’d gone out this afternoon to feed the fish, had found two of them dead.

“Beth, this amount of algae doesn’t grow in a matter of days.” I said, looking down at the murky green water, “I think your pump has been malfunctioning for a while.”

“Oh no, are you sure?”

“Yeah, pretty sure.  Let me have a look and I’ll see if I can find out what’s going on.”

She went back inside and I shut the power off at the box on the side of the house and pulled up the pump.  It was slippery to the touch, covered in a fine layer of green slime and the water smelled funky when I disturbed it.  I started to break down the pump; setting the pieces on the flattened cardboard box I’d brought and found the problem almost immediately.  The impeller was nearly completely clogged, so the water couldn’t circulate properly.  I took the pump apart and got the hose, cleaning the parts with an old toothbrush from my toolbox, then put it back together.  I lowered it into the pond and turned the power back on, checking to see that it was working properly before shutting it down so it wouldn’t just get clogged again.

I went to the door and called for Beth, bringing her outside and explaining what I’d found.

“So there’s no point in turning the pump back on now.  The pond needs to be drained and cleaned by hand first or exactly the same thing will happen.  I’ll email you an estimate but off the top of my head, you’re looking at probably 3 or 4 hours labour with two of my people.  Or, you and Ken could do it yourselves.”

She shook her head, looking disgusted, “If we knew what we were doing, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place.  I bloody told Ken this was going to happen.”  She sighed, “Christ.  How soon can you send someone to fix it?”

“I’ll have to look at the schedule, but hopefully by the end of the week.” 

I headed back to the office, wishing I’d washed my hands before I’d gotten in my car as the stagnant water smell pervaded my nose.  Myra had nothing special to report and I explained what we needed for the MacPhails.  We moved some things around in the book, were able to schedule Alicia and one of the juniors to go over on Thursday and then I showed Myra how to prepare the estimate. 

We’d had a good day and were both pleased at how quickly she had found her feet.  Tomorrow, I told her, I’d handle the phones and she could get started on the bookkeeping.  That was what I was most looking forward to never having to do again.

I stopped on the way home and picked up a take-away from the Thai restaurant in our neighbourhood, eating it straight from the container while I watched utter crap on TV.  It was lovely.  I didn’t wait up for Ben, he’d warned me he was likely to be late but I woke up when he got home.  I could tell, even from a distance that he was drunk.

He was in the kitchen, making himself a snack and he was clumsy.  Cupboard doors kept slamming closed, followed by him telling them to shush and in spite of his attempts to be quiet, he never shut up, talking to himself the whole time.  I was laughing so hard, I was sure he’d hear me.  The microwave chimed and I heard Ben walking quickly to the sitting room, muttering ‘hot, hot, hot, hot’ before the TV came on. 

I was asleep again before he came up, waking me with a loud, “Whoops!” and hysterical giggling.

The light was on in the loo, the door partly open.  I sat up.

“What are you doing?”

He peeked around the door, “Sorry,” he slurred, “D’ I wake you?”

“Obviously,” I chuckled, “what’s going on in there?”

“Dropped my fucking toothbrush in the toilet,” he swayed in the doorway, “A’right if I use yours?”

“Yes.”

“’kay.” He gave me a dopey grin and shut the door.

When he was done, he turned the bathroom light off and walked across the room tripping over what I assumed was his own feet and falling into bed.  I started to laugh again as he rolled over, searching for me in the dark.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“Lots.” He answered, “Poss’bly more.” And his head dropped heavily onto my shoulder.

This was definitely the drunkest I’d ever seen him and he was asleep, or passed out, in minutes.  And snoring like a buzz saw.  I tried to shift him, to make him change position, hoping he’d stop but it was no good.  No matter which way his face was angled, the noise continued.  I finally gave up and slipped out of bed, taking my alarm clock and sleeping in the spare bedroom.

He didn’t budge the next morning while I showered and got ready and I let him sleep until I absolutely had to leave.  I sat on the side of the bed and shook him gently.

“Ben, it’s time to get up.”

I shook his shoulder harder and said his name again.  His eyes fluttered and he groaned.

“Oh god, something’s died in my mouth.  And my throat hurts.”

“That would be from the snoring,” I said cheerfully, “I brought you coffee.  Can you sit up?”

“Help me.” He said, holding out his hand.

I pulled him up and watched as he tried to focus on my face.  He took the cup I offered and had a tentative sip before passing it back.

“Nope, can’t do it.”

“Here, I also brought water.” I passed him the glass from the nightstand and he drank it all.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“In that case, don’t forget to get your toothbrush out of the toilet first.”

He blinked slowly, trying to process, “Why is my toothbrush in the toilet?”

“I have no idea.  Perhaps you were juggling?  Just be glad I noticed it was still in there before I had a pee.”

“Fucking hell I was drunk.  Did I keep you awake with the snoring?”

“No, not after I moved to the spare room.” I grinned, “I tried to shut you up, but it was no use.  You were dead weight.”

“Sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter.  Did you have fun?”

“Absolutely no idea.  I assume so.”

“Good.  I really have to go and you should get up.  I’m guessing you were smart enough to leave your car, so you’ll have to call a cab to get to the theatre.”

He nodded then said, “Ouch.”

“I’ll see you later,” I kissed his clammy forehead, “and I’ll make you something nice and greasy for supper.”

His face blanched and his chest heaved.  He leapt out of bed and ran for the bathroom.

“Toothbrush!” I shouted and I left so he could barf in peace.

That night, when he finally dragged himself through the door, he looked exhausted.

“Long day?”

“The longest.”  He leaned on the door frame.

“How did you manage to get through rehearsal?”

“Sheer force of will.  And I had a nap at lunch time.”

“Do you think you can eat?”

“Oh god yes.  You promised something greasy?”

“Homemade fish and chips?”

“Really?  That would be fantastic.  You are an angel.”

“You have no idea.  I bought you a new toothbrush and there’s ginger ale and fresh squeezed lemon juice in the fridge,” I said, turning the stove on to heat the oil, “Give me half an hour and we can eat.”

He poured himself a large glass of soda and watched me for a while until I caught him nearly nodding off at the table.

“Ben, why don’t you go lie down on the couch?  I’ll bring this in when it’s ready.”

He stood up, still a little shaky and did as I’d suggested.  When the food was done I loaded a plate with enough for two, picked up the condiments in my other hand and took it all into the sitting room.  He sat up, reclining against the arm of the sofa as I put the plate on the table and settled next to him.

“Oh, that smells good.”

“Vinegar and ketchup on the chips?” I asked.

“Yes please.”

I doctored the food and scooting closer to him, broke a piece of fish off with my fingers and fed it to him.  He watched me as I picked up a chip and held it to his mouth.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked after he had swallowed.

I grinned, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I mean, why aren’t you angry with me?  I stayed out half the night, came home pissed and woke you up, snored so loudly you had to go sleep in the spare bedroom…”

“So?  It’s not like you do it all the time.” I fed him another piece of fish, “And it wasn’t my toothbrush that ended up down the bog.  Unless there’s something you’ve neglected to tell me, what could I possibly have to be angry about?”

“Um, there is one thing.  The last stop of the evening was a strip club.”

“Ben, unless you brought a stripper home and stashed her in the hall closet, I don’t care.” I ate a chip.

He smiled, “I don’t think I did, but you may want to check.  My memory’s a little hazy.”

“She’ll come out on her own when she gets hungry.”

When we’d finished, I took the dishes back to the kitchen and asked if he needed more ginger ale.

“I feel so much better for having eaten.” He said, as I passed him the glass.

“Glad to hear it.”

I went to wash the dishes and when I came back, he was sitting in exactly the same position I’d left him in, the glass still full in his hand.  He looked up as I stopped in front of him.  He exhaled forcefully, the little frown line between his eyebrows showing.

“You’ve made up your mind then?”

He stared at me then he asked, “What makes you…”

“Because I know you,” I interrupted gently, “And I’ve realized something:  When you drove up to see me on Saturday night it wasn’t only because you knew I needed you, you could have phoned and tried talking me down.  And it wasn’t just because you needed to see me too.  You felt guilty.”

A brief flash of panic showed in his eyes, and I knew I was right. 

“Guilty?” he repeated in a thin voice.

I sat with him.

“Yes, because I admitted to you that I was hurt and only pretending to be strong.  You kept saying that you needed time to figure everything out and I believed you.  But I also think you’ve known what’s really going on for a while but you’ve been afraid of the answer.  My love, it’s time.  Please,” I took his hand, “tell me.”

“Alright,” He sighed heavily, looking pained, avoiding eye contact.

“I want you to know that this really has been about finding out whether we could communicate without using sex to obscure any issues we might be facing.  But I haven’t been honest about why.  What I haven’t been able to say, because I’ve been too ashamed to admit it is; I’m weak.  I’m weak and I’m manipulative.  I use our extraordinary chemistry, and will use whatever it takes, to keep you with me.  I’m utterly dependant on you, on having you stay in my life, feeding this craving.”

I don’t know exactly what I had expected to hear – something like this, some admission of insecurity, yes, but hearing him speak in such a defeated tone stunned me.

“Kai, we’ve only known each other since July and we’ve spent an awful lot of the time since then apart.  So, every time we saw each other again, it was explosive.  It was fireworks and excitement and raw lust.  Honestly, I didn’t think it would stay that way for long once I came home but I was wrong.” He was speaking quickly now, the words piling up on top of each other, “Nothing has changed, it’s still the same way for me every time I look at you, every time I touch you and it’s scaring the shit out of me because I don’t know how we can possibly sustain it.  It’s like burning the candle from both ends; eventually, the flames meet in the middle and it fizzles out.  Is that what’s going to happen to us?  Are we going to wake up one day and not have that passion?”

“Ben, how could you have kept this to yourself for so long?  How could you have kept it from me; this stupid, stupid thought?”

He looked shocked.  I slid my leg over his, and sat up taking his face in my hands. And while I actually felt like giving him a good slap, I forced myself to be patient, once more.

“I don’t believe that what you and I have could ever ‘fizzle out’.  But, ease?  Lose a little of its intensity?  Probably, one day, at some point in the very distant future.” 

 I kissed his stubbled cheeks, held him to me while I kissed his lips and then I leaned back and looked into his eyes, my hands dropping to his shoulders.

“It’s inevitable, isn’t it?  You know this crazy, hot for each other all the goddamned time phase eventually fades, but that doesn’t mean the love fades with it.  And that is what we have.   It’s love, not dependency.  And the fire doesn’t go away, it just,” I shrugged, “settles down a little bit and instead of non-stop blazing desire, you get comfort and contentment with flare-ups of that old intensity.  And, since it’s us,” I smiled, “and all you have to do is look at me and my insides turn to jelly, we’ll probably be lucky enough to have more of that than most other people.  But of course it’s going to settle down.  You’ve been in love before; you have to know that’s just what happens.”

“I’ve never been in love like this.” He growled, “I’ve never felt this overwhelming _need_ for anyone before.  It’s like being a junkie and I knew the only way to see if I could live without that feeling was to quit, cold turkey.  I thought I couldn’t allow myself to be with you, couldn’t let myself have even a taste because it’s never enough.”  There was genuine distress in his eyes now, “And I was right, I couldn’t keep myself away from you… you  are the strong one.  Over and over again I came close, so close to breaking my own rules.” He took another deep breath, “The more you give me the more I want and I’m sure there are people who would say it’s not right to feel this way, that it’s unhealthy and obsessive but I don’t fucking care anymore.”  His voice was low and fierce, his hands gripping the tops of my thighs, “I don’t want this feeling to fade, I fucking love that we can’t get enough of each other.   You make me feel like I’m the most powerful, exciting man in the world when you fall to pieces in my arms.  I’ve accepted that I’m yours, to do with as you please.  I am completely and utterly yours, but you are mine as well.”

He was breathing fast; his hands moved to my hips and I gasped as he pulled me roughly toward him, his fingers digging into my flesh, “I love the way I completely lose myself when I’m with you, when I’m inside you.  When all rational thought is gone and there’s only you and me and what it feels like when you throw your head back and cry my name.  I can’t stand the thought of losing this because how the hell can we ever be satisfied with ‘comfort’ knowing that we’re capable of feeling this way?”

I was totally taken aback by the ferocity of his response and before I could think of any way to answer him, he put his arms around me and stood up. 

“Fuck the rules.” He rasped.

Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him and he headed for the stairs.  I held on to him, my fingers clenching in the fabric of his shirt as he carried me up to the bedroom.  In the doorway, he shoved my back against the jamb and his lips came down hard on mine, his tongue invading my mouth.  His hands moved to my ass and I felt his hardness through his jeans as he drove his hips against me.  I moaned and tightened my legs around him.  He carried me to the bed and we fell back, his hands dragging my shirt up and over my head.  He palmed my breasts and buried his face in my skin, nipping and sucking, his breath harsh in his throat like an animal.

It felt so right, being with him like this but somehow, in the midst of my exhilaration, I had a flash of clarity.  I remembered what we had agreed on Sunday night when we got home; that we would keep our promise to go the full two weeks, and most importantly, why - for our future, honouring our commitment to each other, being partners not just with our bodies but with our whole selves.

“Wait, Ben…” I panted, pushing my hands into his hair, trying to lift his head.

“Uh-uh.” He reared back and pulled me toward the edge of the bed, barely getting the button undone on my jeans before he was yanking them down my legs.

His neck was flushed; his forehead sweaty and I felt a powerful surge of arousal as he moved forward; sliding his hands up my naked thighs.  There was nothing my body wanted more at that moment than him; to join with him and lose ourselves in each other, but in my mind I heard his voice, the self-disgust, ‘I’m weak’.  I had to get through to him before it was too late.  This was exactly what he’d told me he was afraid we did, avoiding a difficult discussion, using sex to get the frustration out.  Allowing our baser instincts to take over, like addicts looking for the next hit.

I saw now all the times throughout these days when he had actually been the strong one, not only carrying this needless burden with him, but actually stopping himself every time, holding back his need, holding himself to his test and honoring me, us, by pushing our boundaries in a new way.  He had made us stronger by acknowledging his ‘weakness’ and fighting it.  I was proud of him for putting himself through this and couldn’t let him throw away all he’d accomplished now, when we were so close to completing what we’d set out to do.

“Ben, stop.”  My heart was pounding in my ears and as he fell back on top of me, his hands working on his zipper, I put my hands on his shoulders and tried to push him off.

“No,” he growled into my neck, pushing my underwear to one side and sliding his fingers over me, “it’s what we both want.”

He was heavy, holding me down as he sucked at my throat.

“Not like this. Ben, we can’t…”  It was like he didn’t hear, his cock bumping against me as he ground his groin into mine and I pleaded, desperately, “Ben, please, you have to stop.”

I was very close to tears, born of frustration rather than pain or fear.

Startled, he froze and his head shot up, “Jesus, you’re serious,” The sound of my voice having finally gotten through to him, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, but let me up.”

He slid backward to kneel at the bedside, pulling me into a sitting position.   

“What happened?” He was still breathing hard, “I thought we were both…I mean; I thought you wanted what I wanted.  It felt like you did.”

I took a couple of deep breaths, threading my fingers with his.

“I did want it.  I want you, so badly.  But we were doing exactly what you said from the start that we do – having sex because the conversation got too hard.  We could have kept going, but afterward you’d have been angry at yourself and at me for giving in when we’re so close to finishing this properly.”

He swallowed hard and after a moment he said “You’re right, I’d have been furious at myself.” Then, more forcefully, “For being weak.  Again…”

I put my fingers to his lips to stop him.

“Don’t you dare.  If there is fault then it’s only that you didn’t share your concerns with me and let me help. If something is causing you pain, I need to know.” I ran my hands through his hair, “You keep saying how strong I am but I didn’t realize you were comparing yourself to me.  If I’d known that, I could have set your mind at ease pretty quickly.”

“How?”

“What you’re calling weakness is fear; you’re afraid that what we have can’t last.  But being strong doesn’t mean not being afraid, it means moving forward in spite of it and that’s exactly what you’ve been doing.   I’m scared of things too, all the time.  Except when I’m with you because I find strength in how sure you’ve always been that we were right together.  And Ben, you know me.  Would I have fallen in love with a man who was weak?”

 I stared at him, not saying another word, waiting for him to answer me.

“No.” He admitted, “You need someone who can hold their own with you.”

I nodded, “That’s you.  I need someone who sees when I’m sad or frightened and stands beside me until I get through it.  That’s you.  And, I need someone who knows my mind and my body equally and can satisfy both.  That’s you.”

I put my arms around his shoulders as he rose up on his knees, his hands moving to my back and we held each other. 

“You’re the strongest, the most loving, sweet, funny, generous, smart and beautiful man I’ve ever known.  You’re the best man I’ve ever known.  From now on Ben, if you’re feeling weak, if you’re unsure; tell me.  And take strength from how much I believe in you.”   

My eyes fell closed, my breathing slowed as he whispered over and over again how much he loved me.  He turned his head and I kissed him.

“See?” I said, “Comfort.  It’s not so bad.”

“No, it’s not the worst thing in the world.” He kissed me again, “But is it enough?  Knowing what we’re capable of feeling for each other, is it going to be enough for us in the end?”

“How can we possibly know that?  How can we know for sure how we’ll feel in a year or five years or fifty?  We can’t.” I gripped his shoulders tightly, “But you don’t walk away from the best thing that’s ever happened to you because you can’t guarantee that it will always feel the same.  Everything changes, but if we promise to keep being honest with each other, to always tell each other how we’re feeling, then, if we’re really lucky, we’ll grow together, not apart.”

“I don’t know how much luck has to do with it.  What’s been vital for us so far is saying what makes us happy and what doesn’t so we can work on it.  Honesty,” He sighed, “I guess I blew it this time.  I should have just told you how I felt.”

“Yeah, probably.  On the other hand, would I have taken it as seriously as I have if you hadn’t decided we should stop having sex?  It sure as hell made me sit up and take notice.”  ~~~~

“I knew you were tough but I didn’t know you had it in you to be so patient and calm when I was losing my mind.” He smiled, “I certainly feel as though I know you better than I did before.”

“I didn’t know I had it in me either so I’ve learned something about myself too.  And you’ve shown me that you are the man I thought you were and how hard you’ll fight for what you believe in.  Do you have any idea how special that makes me feel?”

He twisted a coil of my hair around his finger, “You are special; the way you make me feel… and I don’t just mean sex.”

“I know what you mean.  You tell me every day.  Keep doing that and we’ll be fine.” ~~~~

The next morning, he woke me up, whispering my name.

“I’m awake.” I yawned.

“And where are you?” He asked; his voice soft in my ear.

I was confused for a moment, still half asleep, then it came to me and I knew what he was asking.

“I’m in your arms.” I smiled, opening my eyes as he lifted his head from the pillow.

“Right where you belong.” And he squeezed tightly.

“I don’t want to get up.  It’s too nice here, with you.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t make my own schedule, so I have to get up.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, “if you must.”

“I must.” He gave me a kiss and rolled out of bed.  Halfway to the bathroom, he turned back, climbing onto the bed and leaning over me, “Come shower with me.”

I brushed my teeth while the shower heated up then I joined him under the water.  We took turns scrubbing each other, kissing and laughing when I made shampoo horns on his head.

“You look ridiculous.” I said.

He struck a pose, “I thought I looked rather exotic.”

“Nope.  Ridiculous.  Trust me.”

He wiped the steam from the shaving mirror on the wall and had a look.

“Oh dear.  Well, that’s rather unfortunate.”

He scraped the suds from his head and deposited them on my breasts.  I looked down as he carefully wiped the soap from my nipples with his index fingers. 

“Was that supposed to turn me on?”

He shook his head, an impish grin on his face, “No.  I just wanted to see if they’d look like cupcakes.”

“I see.” I couldn’t stop giggling, “And do they?”

“Not at all.  But I’d eat you up anyway.”

My eyes got huge, “You did not just say that!”

“I did.”

“That was so cheesy I’m not going to need breakfast.”

I turned my back to him to rinse off and he delivered a sharp slap to my ass.  I jumped and glared at him over my shoulder.

“Go make me a cup of coffee before I decide to punish you for that.” I said.

He raised an eyebrow, considering his options and as he stepped out of the shower he said, “Might have to try that again tomorrow, just to see what happens.”

‘Tomorrow’ I thought, rinsing my hair and despite the heat of the water, I shivered in expectation.

He’d made me scrambled eggs and toast and we took our time over breakfast.  I didn’t have to rush since Myra had her own key now and she’d call if she needed anything. 

It was wonderful and relaxed; all the stress and pressure of the past two weeks, gone. The last remaining piece, the missing physical release was now more of a tease, a sweet ache of anticipation that I could gladly stand for one more day.  We lingered over our second cups of coffee and then I cleared the table; even being the boss I couldn’t be that late.  I put my boots and jacket on and when I went to say good bye, he put his arm around me, holding me close while he untucked the front of my shirt and kissed my stomach.  I ran my fingers down the back of his neck and his tongue brushed my skin.  He looked up.

“Your nails have grown.”

I looked at my hand, “Huh.  So they have.  I’ll have to cut them when I start working outside again.”

“Don’t cut them yet.  I like the way they feel.”

I stared into his eyes and felt a thrill deep in my belly.

“I have to go.  I really have to go, right now.”

“O.K.” he said, turning back to his paper as though he had no idea what he’d just done to me, “Have a lovely day.”

I was nearly at the office before I’d finally calmed down.  Myra and I worked from separate desks and she only occasionally had to ask for guidance so by the end of the day I asked her if she felt comfortable enough to be on her own on Friday.

“As long as I can reach you on your mobile, I don’t see why not.”

I thanked her and sent her home early.  I had originally told Charlie I’d be free sometime in the afternoon, so now I called him and told him I had the whole day free.

“I have a couple of things to take care of in the morning before I see you, so why don’t you come by my office around 11?”

I agreed and closed up for the day.  I didn’t feel like cooking so I stopped for pizza on the way home and we reheated it Ben got home, eating in front of the TV.  Ben had to work on his lines, he was trying to get ahead since he was going to Paris for the weekend and wouldn’t be able to spend much time on his script while he was there.  He left me watching an old movie and went to his office.  I’d fallen asleep on the couch, the past few restless nights catching up with me, and he woke me by tenderly picking me up and carrying me upstairs.  He set me on my feet, undressed me and put me to bed, getting in next to me and wrapping his body around me.  I was asleep again in minutes.

On Friday morning I slipped quietly out of his arms and I made him breakfast, digging my ancient waffle iron out of the back of the cupboard.  It may have seemed a strange thing to bring with me all the way from Canada when I’d moved here but it had belonged to my Grandmother and made me feel connected to my family.  Every time I used it, it brought back memories of holidays with my Grandparents, the whole family sitting around the big table in the farmhouse, sharing breakfast before spending the day working outside - haying in the summer, weeding the garden, collecting eggs from the henhouse or Finn and I flying on the rope swing over the swimming hole, leaping into the cool water.  After I’d told my Dad how sentimental it made me using the old iron, the packages of maple syrup started arriving like clockwork every month.

Ben sighed with pleasure at the first bite.

“God these are good.”

“I’m glad you like them but I’m pretty sure you’d eat cardboard if I put maple syrup on it.”

“Yeah, I would.  But I prefer waffles.”

“Where are we going tonight?”

“The Tate.  You won’t believe the view from our table.”

“What time?”

“Early.  I made the reservation for seven.  The sooner we get supper out of the way, the sooner I can get you home.”

“Can you change it?  I can be ready by five.” I grinned.

“Or we could skip it entirely and eat crisps in bed.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“No, I want to take you out.  We deserve to celebrate.”

He offered me his hand and I slid my fingers through his, “We do.  And I really want to say something romantic right now, but honestly?  All I can think to tell you is to take it easy today and conserve your energy.  You’re going to need it.”

“Get me another waffle.  I’m going to carb load.”

I cleaned the kitchen after he left and got ready to go meet Charlie.  I remembered his advice from the last time and wore a skirt and sweater that were easy to change in and out of and a pair of flat boots since we’d probably be doing a ton of walking and I brought my heels with me in a bag.

I pulled into a space in the underground carpark at Charlie’s building and took the elevator to his floor.  He’d been working as the head stylist at the magazine for a couple of months but this was the first time I’d been to his office.  The elevator doors opened on a spare but colourful space.  The receptionist’s desk stood in the centre of the entry and daylight flooded the office.  I gave her my name and she buzzed Charlie to let him know I was there. 

He came walking down the hall toward me, beaming and greeted me with kisses on both cheeks.

“Come see my office.  And I have a surprise for you.”

There were two assistants working at the desks outside his door and we said hello as he led me through.  His office matched the main area, clean lines, plain, dark wood furniture and tons of windows. 

“Wow, Charlie this is impressive!”

“I know, isn’t it?” he grinned in glee, “And come see what I have for you.”

He gestured with his arm, like a magician and I turned to see what he was pointing at.  There was a screen set up as a make-shift changing area and 3 racks of dresses on hangers.  Boxes of shoes were stacked against the wall and next to them, a table covered in belts, purses and jewelry.

“Holy shit!”

“I know how much you hate shopping and because there was so much you needed, we’d have been running ‘round London all day, which I’d have been happy to do, but this will be so much easier.  I raided our samples for the shoes and accessories, and for the dresses I called in some favours, dropped Ben’s name like a total trollop and voila!” 

“Charlie, I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

“Sweetie, it’s what I do every day.  It’s my job.  And you’re my friend so I’m happy to help.  Now, it’s not too early for some bubbly, is it?  No of course it isn’t.”

Proudly, he got a bottle from the refrigerator behind his desk and poured us each a glass.  He’d printed the list of events I’d sent him and I could see he’d made notes all over it. He sent me behind the screen to get changed and passed me the first dress.

I’d put on each one and step out in front of the mirrored wall and Charlie would decide whether it was a yes or a no.  I’d like to pretend I had some say in it but truth be told, it was all him.  If he liked something, it got paired with shoes and Charlie would hold up jewelry or add a belt until he was satisfied.  He kept taking notes, writing down what went with each dress and who the designers were since he knew I’d be asked at some point and I’d have no idea.

It was so much quicker than going from store to store and in less than three hours, I had 8 complete outfits.  I was so relieved and absolutely grateful to him.  Charlie called one of his assistants in to help pack everything up and we loaded it all in the back of my Rover.  I hugged him, tightly.

“So…how does this work, how do I pay for all this?”

He snorted, “Kai, most of this was comped by the designers, that’s why you have to know who you’re wearing.  You having your picture taken with Ben is free advertising for them.  And I’ll email you the invoices for the few things you will have to pay for and you just have Ben send those to his business manager.”

“They just gave you these?  That’s crazy.”

“Welcome to the fashion business my dear.  Now get out of here, I have real work to do and you have lingerie to shop for.”

I drove away, racking my brain for a way to repay Charlie for all he’d done for me.  Leah had known him the longest and I was seeing her on the weekend, so I’d ask her what I could do to thank him. 

I went back to the lingerie shop where Charlie and I had shopped before Tom’s film premiere and spent an embarrassing amount of money in a very short time.

It was getting late by the time I got home so after I’d carried all my loot upstairs, which took three trips, I hopped straight into the shower. 

I dried my hair and took my time getting it right, gathering the curls into a soft bun, low on my neck and pinning it into place.  I’d decided to wear a knit sweater dress, orange and brighter than I usually would have chosen for myself but the longer I looked at it, the better I liked it.  And the bonus was, because it was such a warm, bright tone I was still able to keep my make up to a minimum.  On the hanger, it didn’t look like much, I’d even remarked before I tried it on that it looked like a tube but Charlie told me that was the point and made me put it on.  It was sort of retro, sleeves to the elbow and the neckline off the shoulder with a wide turned over ‘cuff’, the hem falling mid-calf.

“Charlie,” I’d said at the time, plucking the fabric at my waist, “It’s skin tight.”

He’d slapped my hand away, “That’s the point dummy.  That style worked for Bardot and it works for you.”

I dressed in the closet, first squeezing myself into a strapless, one-piece corset then carefully pulling the dress over my head.  I ran my hands over the fabric, pleased at the way the body suit smoothed out the bumps and how nicely the knit flowed over it.  I slipped my feet into a pair of black patent pumps, high enough to make my calves look good but not so high I’d be worried about falling off them and I wore the olive branch necklace and earrings that Ben had given me, the blue topaz set off nicely by the orange of my dress.  I threw my lipstick in my purse just as I heard the front door open.

Ben stared as I walked down the stairs and turned a pirouette at the bottom.

“Good lord.” He said, coming toward me.

“So you like it then?” I teased as he put his hands on my hips.

“I…you…” his hands moved to my back, feeling the fabric, feeling for what was under the fabric, “New lingerie?”

A smile crept slowly over my face as I nodded.

“I think I’m going to cry.”               

I chuckled, “Tears of joy, I hope.”

“Agony most likely,” He corrected, “as I sit across the table from you in that dress, imagining what I’m going to do to you when we get home.”

“Go get changed then.  The sooner we leave, the sooner we get back.”

“I’m going to shave this off,” he rubbed his lightly bearded chin, “after I shower.  Should I call you?”

I sighed, “It’s probably best if you don’t.  I don’t think I can be trusted to just watch.”

He went upstairs and I poured myself a whiskey and drank it on the terrace, smoking and watching the sun fall below the skyline.  Ben called out that he was nearly ready and I called the taxi.

When we got to the restaurant, we were shown to our table, Ben’s hand warm on my back as he walked beside me.  We were seated at the window, looking out toward the river, across London, lights as far as the eye could see in the early evening darkness.  Candles flickered off glass and tableware and subdued piano music played in the background, inspiring people to keep their voices soft and low.  I smiled at Ben as he reached across the small table, placing his hand over mine.

“Excellent choice Cumberbatch.  Romance factor, ten.”

“Glad you approve.  I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve brought you here.”

“Better late than never.  Timing is everything.”

Our waitress came to the table, and Ben asked what I wanted to drink.

“An Old Fashioned.”

“Hmm, that sounds good.  Two please.” He told the waitress.

I asked him about his day and we talked about rehearsals, his face practically glowing as he spoke about how much he loved it, the collaboration between him, the other actors and the director and the process of learning about his character.  I loved the way he became so animated, the joy and passion he found in what he did evident as he described and imitated and explained.  I asked more questions because I was interested, but also so I could watch his face and his elegant hands moving in the air as he spoke.  His voice was putting me into a sensual trance.

He paused for a breath as I finished my drink and he caught the waitress’ eye, holding up two fingers.  Knowing his sweet tooth, I offered him the cocktail cherry from my glass.  He ate it and his eyes narrowed as he looked at me.

“Have you ever tried that thing?  Tying a knot in the cherry stem?”

I plucked the stem from his fingers and popped it in my mouth.  A couple of seconds later, I stuck the end of my tongue out, the knotted stem balanced on it.  I took it from my mouth and dropped it in my empty glass as he grinned.

“Have you?” I asked.

“Yup.  Can’t do it.  Completely hopeless.”

“I find that hard to believe.  I know what your tongue is capable of.”

He actually blushed as our server placed our drinks in front of us, and he told her we were ready to see the menu.  After my last comment, he refused to speak to me until I’d decided what I wanted to eat, tapping his fingers on the table in mock impatience. ~~~~

We chose our starters, asparagus and pea soup for me and in spite of the face I made, duck livers with ginger toast for him.

“Any chance you’d like the lobster for your main course?” He asked.

“I don’t know yet.” I answered, still reading.

“Because I’d like to order it but I want it with the garlic butter.  And I’m not eating garlic tonight unless you do too.”

“You think if we both have garlic we won’t be able to smell it on each other?”

“That’s the theory.”

“Ben, eat whatever you want.  At this point, you could have dog shit on your shoes and I’d let you wear them to bed.”

He barked with laughter, drawing glances from other tables, “That is simultaneously the most disgusting and the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard.”

I had the hake with broad beans and butter sauce.  He had the lobster.  As the waitress cleared our plates, she offered dessert and Ben told me that the honey panna cotta they made here was one of the best things he’d ever eaten.

“Actually,” I smiled at the waitress, “I’ve got dessert taken care of at home.”

Ben passed her his credit card and as she walked away he said, “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one in a hurry to get out of here.”

“I have a confession.” I folded my arms and leaned on the table, “I’m nervous.”

“Why ever for?”

I shrugged, “I’m not sure.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m also excited, but…I haven’t felt this skittish since our first time together.”

He imitated my posture, leaning forward, his voice soft, “Our first time was incredible and each time since has been as good or better.  I have never been, could never be, anything but thrilled and overwhelmed and joyously satisfied every single time with you."

Looking into his eyes, I swallowed dry, my heart racing.

“Where is that waitress with your card?” I whispered. 

We retrieved our coats and stepped onto the elevator.  As soon as the doors closed he backed me into the corner, nipping my earlobe and inhaling deeply as he nuzzled my neck.  My hands on his forearms clutched at the cloth of his sleeves and I leaned into him.  When I tried to sneak my fingers inside the waistband of his trousers he took me by the wrists and pushed my hands behind my back.  He held me like that, rubbing his smooth cheek over mine until we reached the ground floor. 

I couldn’t sit still in the cab, tapping my foot, looking out the window and stealing glances at Ben who seemed perfectly composed, holding my hand in his and tracing the tattoo on my wrist with his thumb.  He caught me looking at him and he smiled, sending a jolt of electricity though me.  Arousal yes, but more than that, I was absolutely staggered by the love in his eyes.  I could feel it like a physical force surrounding us, warm and safe, perfect in its imperfection and everything I’d ever wanted in this world was right there, in him.  He looked so content, so sure of himself.  The nerves left me like an exhaled breath and I put my head on his shoulder, peaceful now.

If I’d pictured it an hour ago, I’d have seen us racing up the stairs to the flat, shedding clothing as fast as we could get it off and falling on each other like animals the second we were in the door.  But Ben paid the cabbie and hand in hand, we walked upstairs, taking our coats off and hanging them up, standing in the front hall, inches apart, for I had no idea how long.  His hand came up to cup my chin and he pressed his warm lips to mine.  One gentle kiss.

He led me through to the other room and taking both my hands in his he began to speak, his deep voice soft with emotion.

“I had a whole speech prepared.  I had memorized what I wanted to say and I practiced until it was perfect.  But now, I realize that nothing I had planned to say could ever tell you more than this: I love you.  I love you in every possible meaning of the words.  It’s that complicated and it’s that simple.”

I knew.  I knew even before he went down on one knee.  I knew before he reached into his pocket. 

I could barely hear his next words over the sound of the blood rushing through my veins, my heart hammering in my chest and my mind went completely blank.

Looking up at me he opened his hand revealing the little blue velvet box.  He opened it but I couldn’t look, couldn’t tear my eyes from his.  I couldn’t breathe.

“Kai, will you be my wife?”


	25. Speechless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But she doesn't even believe in marriage...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one's short, but sweet(ish) - I might have used up all my words in the last one!  
> I hope you enjoy.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 25 – Speechless 

 

I experienced something very much like my entire life flashing before my eyes. 

Even in the liberal West Coast community where I’d grown up, my parents were in the minority.  I’d always known that they weren’t married and I had, at an age when fitting in and being like everyone else matters, asked them why not.  They had sat me down and explained that neither of them believed that a piece of paper, a ceremony, had anything to do with how they felt about each other.  They felt it was a more powerful statement that they stayed together for no other reason than that they loved each other.  

They weren’t perfect – like any other couple, they didn’t always get along, a situation complicated by my Mum being in the navy.  Her extended absences when she was at sea and the difficult adjustments when she returned and tried to find her way back into the family unit, to re-establish her place in the home, sometimes resulting in huge blow-ups between them.  And my brother and I were very much aware, in spite of their attempts to shield us, when they went through a period where we were sure they were going to separate.  But they got through it, fought hard to stay together and not only for us kids, but because they wanted to be together more than they ever wanted to be apart, even when they sometimes couldn’t stand the sight of each other.

Their example had shaped the way I looked at marriage.   As a little girl, playing dress-up with my friends, when they wanted to play wedding, I ran for the hills.  By the time I’d graduated from high school, my parents were again in the minority; more than half my friends living with single parents, so I’d never had a great deal of faith in the institution of marriage.  When I’d told Ben’s mother that a wedding wasn’t important to me, I’d not only meant it, but had believed it wholeheartedly.

Now, this man I loved; loved so much that the touch of his hand could suck the air from my lungs, was down on one knee offering me a ring, offering me a life with him, waiting for me to answer his question.  And I was trying, but I couldn’t seem to make the words come out.   I reached out and put my hand on his cheek, felt the muscle jump in his jaw as he clenched his teeth and swallowed.

I nodded.

“Is that a yes?” He asked hoarsely, “Did you just say yes?”

I nodded again and laughed as he jumped to his feet, picking me up and spinning us in a circle.  I held on tightly when he stopped, my lips brushing his neck as I finally found my voice.

“Yes Ben.”

He set me back on my feet, looking down at me, his blue-green eyes shimmering with happy tears. 

I blinked rapidly, “You’re going to make me cry.”

“I think,” He said with a sweet smile, “that under the circumstances, you could be forgiven.”

He set the little box on the table, taking the ring from it.  We stared into each other’s eyes as he took my hand in his, slid the ring onto my finger and raised it to his mouth, pressing his lips to my fingers.  My heart was beating like I’d just run a marathon.

“Aren’t you going to look at it?” He smiled.

“Oh!  Right.”

I pressed my hand flat to his chest, looking at my finger.  He was breathing rapidly and with each movement, the light caught the stone, a single sparkling diamond on a band with stylized leaves tumbling down the sides.

“It’s beautiful.  It looks old.”

“It was my great grandmother’s.  When Dad showed it to me and I saw the leaves, it just seemed perfect for you.  I had the top part set on a new band so it would fit and it’s platinum so it matches your silver rings.  And the stone sits flat so you won’t have to take it off when you’re working.”

“You thought of everything.”

He covered my hand with his, pressing it to his chest so I could feel his heart beat.

“I didn’t think of you taking so long to answer that I very nearly had a heart attack.”

“I didn’t think of you asking so soon that I nearly did.”

“You said yes.” He said.

“I know.”

We grinned at each other again, both a little giddy.

“We should do something to mark the occasion.”

“I know just the thing.”

I ran to the kitchen, got a bottle of champagne from the fridge and went around through the hall to the bottom of the stairs.  I crooked a finger and beckoned to Ben.

“Come with me.” I said and ran up the steps to the bedroom.

I reached for the light switch and he was behind me, his hand reaching out to stop me.

“Wait.”

I stood in the doorway as he went ahead, his lighter flicking in the darkness and he did a circuit of the bedroom, lighting candles.  He came back, took my hand and led me to the bed. 

Looking around the room, I smiled and asked, “What would you have done if I’d said no?”

Kicking his shoes off, he frowned, thinking.

“I suppose I’d still have lit the candles and I’d still have made love to you.  But I imagine I would have had a very sad face the whole time.”

Laughing, I passed him the bottle, “Would you open this?”

“Did you bring glasses?” He asked, tearing off the foil that covered the cork and the wire basket.

“Let’s just get into bed and drink it straight from the bottle.”

Popping the cork, he took a sip and passed it to me.  As I lifted the bottle to my lips, we made eye contact and the naked lust in his eyes ran through me like a current.  I swallowed and set the bottle on the nightstand behind him.  When I stood up, I reached for his tie, undid the knot and pulled it free from his collar.  I opened the first two buttons of his shirt and leaned against him, pressing my lips to the mole at the side of his throat and running my lips over his skin to the hollow where his neck met his clavicle.  He slid his jacket off and reached around me, his hands moving over my back and I tilted my head to kiss him.  Our mouths met and my toes curled inside my shoes. 

His mouth was so soft and he sucked at my lips, his hand coming up to cup the back of my head and hold me to him.  I kissed him back, unbuttoning his shirt so I could slide my hands inside and over his flat belly, up to his chest, feeling his nipples tighten with my touch.  He raised his arms so I could undo his cuffs and he dropped his shirt to the floor.  Holding my palm to his stomach I took a step backward, so I could look at him in the candlelight.

“So beautiful…” I sighed.

“Do you know, I still feel funny when you say that?”

“I’m never going to stop thinking it and I’m never going to stop telling you, so you may as well get used to it.”

I trailed my fingernails down his taut belly to unbuckle his belt.  Grinning up at him, I slowly pulled it from his waistband and looped it into a circle, slapping it lightly against my leg.

“You know Ben, I’ve been thinking…” I cocked an eyebrow at him, teasing.

“I’ll bet you have.” He smiled.  He reached up to hold my chin, rubbing my lip with his thumb and his voice turned serious, “And any other night, I’d let you try whatever you wanted.  But tonight, I want to love you.  I want to touch every part of you and give you such pleasure, because we’re going to remember this night for the rest of our lives and when you think of it, I want it to be with nothing but joy.”

“That’s how it always is for me.” I put my arms around him, “whether we’re being gentle with each other or not.  Pleasing you and being pleased by you, that’s where my happiness comes from.  It doesn’t matter if that means feeling your hands caress me or spank me or if I’m on top or you are.  It doesn’t matter, because any time, any way that we’re together, I get what I need; you.”

He bent to kiss my mouth, then across my cheek and down to my jaw where he nipped lightly. 

He nuzzled my neck and whispered in my ear, “And I you, my perfect girl.”

Grasping the neck of my dress in his hands, he slowly went to his knees, pulling the dress down with him.  I stepped out of it and he looked up at me, running his hands up the backs of my legs to my bum and pulling my hips toward him.  He pressed his face to my stomach and I could feel his hot breath through the thick fabric of my corset.  I undid the first couple of hooks and when he moved to take over, I rested my hands on his forearms, feeling the muscles moving under my fingers.  He leaned into me, kissing, licking my skin and I scraped my fingernails lightly through his hair, making him sigh.

He helped me step out of my shoes and he rolled my stockings down my legs, one at a time, his lips following his hands everywhere they touched.  When I was naked, he sat back on his heels, took my hands and guided me to the bed.  I sat and he began to push me onto my back.

“Not yet,” I said, “Stand up.  Please?”

He rose to his feet in front of me.  Remembering what he’d said about my fingernails being longer, how he liked how they felt on his skin, I reached out, using them to trace the outline of his erection through his trousers.  I popped the button, undid his zipper and slid my hand inside, squeezing him through his boxer shorts until he shuddered, hardening, hot and heavy and so big in my hand.

“It’s been too long.  I’m not going to last,” He said hoarsely.

“We have all night,” I pushed his pants down, “And I really, really want you in my mouth.”

“If you keep talking that way, I may not even make it that far.”

Because he was already so aroused, I stroked him lightly, gliding my fingers up and down his length, using just enough pressure that he started to move his hips.  I licked at him, my tongue spread wide and he watched me.  When I took the warm, smooth head in my mouth and swirled the tip of my tongue around the rim, his eyes fluttered shut and he pushed his hands into my hair.

At first, he was careful, going slowly, barely moving between my lips.  His fingers massaged my scalp and I knew he was trying to pace himself, not wanting it to end too quickly.  I let him get used to what I was doing, adjust to the sensations he was feeling and then I moved one hand to cup his balls and slid all the way down his length, the sex scent of my man, my Ben, filling my nose and I moaned.  He responded by jerking, uncontrolled, toward me and I pulled away, looked up at him and slowly, slowly, sank back down until my lips met his groin, his cock pushing deep into my throat.

“Oh Jesus, oh fuck…” he groaned and this time, it was he who pulled back but only so he could start to thrust.

I forced myself to slow my breathing, closed my eyes and concentrated on the pure joy of having him in my mouth, my lips stretched tightly around his smooth thickness, tongue sliding along the pulsing vein on the underside of his erection as he moved faster, his fingers grasping at my hair, his breath rasping in his throat and my own hips started to move as his reactions excited me.  I loved this feeling, the way the smallest things I did could make him groan in response and I hummed in satisfaction, the low vibrations moving through him and he inhaled sharply, gasped my name and started to shake.  I leaned back, wrapped my hands around his swollen shaft and stroked, sucking softly at the head and he came, hard.  I swallowed, still sucking, taking everything from him.

His grip on my hair eased and he used his body to push me onto my back.  He lay on top of me, panting; his cheeks glowing with exertion.  He smiled and bent, his warm mouth closing on my nipple and pulling, the barest hint of his teeth making contact and I sighed and pressed a kiss to his forehead.  He looked up at me and I watched him, his lovely mouth tugging at my breast, the sensation threading through my whole body.  When he raised his hands to lift my breasts and push them together, I put my hands on top of his and he let his lips slide from the jutting tip, his fingers squeezing and rolling both nipples until they were stiff and sensitive.  I fell back as he moved lower, kissing down my belly.

“Turn over.” He said.

I pushed the duvet back, lying on my stomach and he stretched out between my legs.  He planted his hands on either side of my waist and his mouth was on my neck, and lower, tracing my spine.  I shivered as his tongue darted out, moving up my ribs and then he lay on top of me, his weight pushing me into the mattress, his skin so hot.  His fingers moved down my body, massaging my thighs, my bum and then he shifted slightly to one side, his hand sliding under me.  I held my breath, releasing it with a moan when his finger slipped between my swollen lower lips, circling slowly over my clitoris.

The pressure began to build in my core as he moved his hand over my flesh, dipping back to press against my opening and as soon as my hips moved, dancing away, back to my clit.  I was slick with longing and already imagining, remembering what it would feel like to have him inside me.  He rolled off me and I turned onto my side, my hand coming up to caress his cheek as he pushed his hand back between my legs, cupping and squeezing.  We kissed, fierce and messy, me moaning into his mouth and straining into his hand when he finally thrust one long finger deep inside me.  I put my leg over his hip and wriggled closer to him, pressing my chest to his, needing the heat, the contact.  Stroking with his finger, he took his cues from me, following my breathing like a map of my body, giving me just enough of what I needed to keep me on the edge of release until I dug my fingers into his forearm, becoming desperate.

He pulled back, raising his finger to his lips, licking the taste of me from it and with a soft growl he rolled me to my back.  He slid quickly down my body, his arms going under my bum and lifting me to his mouth.   I cried out as his mouth covered me, hot, drawing at my sensitive flesh.  His tongue swirled over my clit and my hands grasped at the sheets.  I tried to move but he held me tightly, burying his face in me and the sounds he made, licking at me and murmuring his approval pushed me closer, right to the edge of the abyss.

“I want, I need…you.” I grabbed his hair and pulled him, not gently, needing so badly to have him inside me.

He kissed his way up my body, found my mouth and his hips rolled against mine, his cock nudging at my entrance. 

“Yes.” I sighed, spreading my legs for him.

He took a long, shuddering breath, pushed and my eyes shot open.

“Ohh, slowly Ben.”

He began to ease his cock inside me and I groaned, shivers running up and down my spine.  I dug my fingers into his back and shifted my hips, changing the angle, trying to make it easier.  He went deeper and I gasped as he stretched me wide. 

“Kai, am I hurting you?”

“I’m fine,” I assured him, smoothing my hands down his back to his hips, “keep going.”

He lifted his head, concern in his eyes, “No.  If you’re not ready, let me help.  I don’t want to hurt you, not tonight.”

I smiled in apology, “I didn’t think a couple of weeks would make this much difference.”

He kissed me, tongue sliding between my lips, his hand running up and down my side.

“The first night we spent together?  I couldn’t take my eyes off you, the way you moved.  I remember everything, the way you held my hands, squeezing them so tightly as you took me inside you, the sounds you made and your face, the way you bit your lip.  Would it be better for you, on top?”

“Maybe, but Ben?” I held his face in my hands, “You’re not _hurting_ me.  It aches, just a little, because it’s been a while but I love it.  I’ve always loved the way it feels when you fill me up, the way my body opens to you.” I kissed him, “Would you like me on top?  Do you want to watch me take you?”

He didn’t say a word; he simply wrapped his arms around me and flipped us over so I was lying on him.  I sat up, my hands on his chest and his resting lightly on top of my thighs.  I reached over, picked up the wine bottle from the night stand.  I took a sip of champagne and swallowed, then another before putting the bottle down, bending over him and tracing the outline of his upper lip with my tongue, cool from the wine.  Kissing, hard and urgent, my breasts mashed against his chest, I felt another jolt of arousal making me even wetter, even more ready for him.

I went up on my knees and held his cock in my hand, rubbing him against me and finally, pressing him to my entrance.  We stared into each other’s eyes in the candlelight.  Breathing deeply, I relaxed, letting myself begin to sink onto his thick shaft.  

“Yes, my love…” he sighed.

I moved up and back down, a little further each time as I stretched to accept him.  He held himself in check, keeping completely still and letting me go as slowly as I needed to, his fingers clutching at my thighs the only evidence of his struggle.  I grabbed his hands, our fingers lacing together, gripped hard and with a whine, took all of him.  I leaned forward, pressing his hands into the mattress beside his head and I rocked, grinding my clit into his pubic bone. 

“Move with me Ben, let me feel you move inside me.”

His hips rose and I felt his muscles tighten under my belly as he groaned.  We swayed together, kissing, tongues entwined as he slid in and out, rock hard in my slick softness, our breathing heavy and in rhythm.

“You feel incredible.  Sit up, so I can watch.”

He held me by the hips, his eyes moving from my face to where our bodies joined and he lifted me, pulled me down onto him, over and over.

“Jesus, I love the way that looks, when I disappear inside you...”

I fell to his chest, tightened my knees around his hips and pulled him with me as I rolled onto my back.

“Deep and slow,” I urged, “I want to see.”

He raised himself on his hands so he could see my face while I looked down, watching his stiff shaft move smoothly into me, slowly slide out and plunge forward again and again.  Each time he pulled back the friction sent an aching throb through my belly, each time he filled me, pushing his groin into mine, my clit pulsed.  And then he made that sound, the one that set me on fire, that raw, helpless moan that meant he was losing control.

I grabbed at his waist, “Ben, I’m close, please don’t stop.”

His weight dropped and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me, his hips circling, grinding against mine.

“Say my name.” His voice rumbled in my ear, low; commanding.

“Benedict.  Come with me Ben, come inside me.” Scraping my fingernails up his back, I sighed, “Ben, my love.”

His mouth covered mine, our breathing hot and fast; our bodies moving perfectly together and he cried out a split second before I did, my back arching off the bed in ecstasy, my muscles clenching around him, solid and throbbing inside me.

We lay together in the afterglow, his hands twining in my hair, my fingers tickling up and down his back.

“I’m not too heavy?” He asked, his voice muffled in my neck.

“Don’t you dare move yet,” I smiled, “this is my favourite part.”

“This is?  Why am I working so hard at all the other stuff then?”

I giggled, “The other stuff is what makes this part so great.  When I couldn’t move if the house caught fire and you lay there, happy and satisfied.”

“And proud of myself, don’t forget proud of myself.”

“You should be.  It was wonderful; almost worth waiting two weeks for.”

He slowly raised his head, glaring at me, “Almost?”

“Yes, almost.  In the sense that two weeks is just too goddamned long.  Promise me we’ll never go that long again.”

“What if I’m away, working?” He teased.

“Two weeks is too long.” I enunciated each word, “It’s too long to go without making love with you and it’s definitely too long to go without seeing each other even if you’re working.  Promise me.”

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.  I understand why we waited; I know how important it was.  But even knowing what it meant to you, there were times when I felt so far away from you, isolated and terrified that I was going to lose you.” I moved my hands to his face, and I blinked as a tear slid from my eye and into my hair, “I don’t ever want to feel that way again.”

“You’re never going to lose me and we’ll never be apart that long again, for any reason.” He took my left hand, looking at the ring glittering on my finger, “I promise.”

“I love you.” I whispered.

“And I love you.  I love you more than air.”

“That’s my line,” I grinned, “think of your own.”

He thought for a second then said brightly, “I love you so much that I still have my socks on.”

“Ooh, sexy.” I said and we cracked up. 

“And I have to pee,” I continued, “You can let me up now.”

He rolled to the side with a groan and I got up.  As I turned to shut the bathroom door, he stuck his foot out from under the duvet, waggling his sock at me.  When I came back, he was sitting up against the headboard, the champagne bottle in his hand.  I took his robe from the back of the door, wrapped it around myself and sat on the bed facing him.  Together, we drank the wine and talked about his trip to Paris.   He was doing some early press for a film he’d completed before we’d met.

“What time is your flight?”

“I have to be at the airport by nine.” He yawned.

“Set the alarm, I’ll drive you.”

“This is work; the production company has arranged a car.”

“I guess I get to sleep in then.”

“What are you up to while I’m away?”

“I’m taking my bike over to Jem’s tomorrow to store it in his back shed for the winter and he’s making dinner for me and Leah.  I’ll stay the night and he’ll drive me back in the morning.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked up at me with a frown. 

“Alice will be there.” I said, knowing what he was thinking, “And I think Leah is staying too.”

“Right.  Well, that’s good.  I mean, not that I was suggesting…” he trailed off.

“Oh, but you were.  You’d have been uncomfortable if I was going to stay over by myself.  I wish you’d let it go Ben.  Jem is very happy with Alice, but even if he was still single, I’m not.  He likes and respects you, he’s my best friend and he’d never do anything to jeopardize that.  More to the point,” I said gently, “If you and I don’t trust each other, we have nothing.  I would never do anything to hurt you, so don’t insult me by insinuating I would.”

He sat up and grabbed my hand, “Kai, I’m sorry, I can’t just turn off the way I feel.  But you’re right; it’s not fair for me to expect you to behave differently because of it.  That’s the last time, I won’t mention it again.”

“Don’t say that, I always want to know if anything is bugging you.  But this thing with Jem is - I’m sorry - it’s just silly.  I don’t mean to discount what you’re feeling, but he would never interfere with my happiness.  Everything he’s said or done when I’ve talked with him about you has only ever been helpful.  He’s only ever wanted us to be happy.  He called you after I saw the pictures of you and Ella in the newspaper, he helped me get my head around the whole control and pain thing.  And when I came to see you after we had our big fight, it was because after talking it through with him, I knew it was what I needed to do.  If it had been Leah that had done all that, you wouldn’t think twice about it.”

He was nodding, his eyebrows drawn into a deep frown.

“No, you’re right, it’s different.  But it’s different not because he’s a man but because I really do believe he loves you, and not platonically.  On the other hand, I also know that he’s not only a good friend, he’s a good man and an honourable one.”

“Yes he is.  And so are you.  So stop being a dick and bringing it up.” I grinned.

He took the last swig from the bottle and put it on the nightstand.  Sitting forward, he grabbed the front of the robe I wore and pulled me over to him, kissing me deeply.  I felt his smile on my lips.

“Take this off,” he said, plucking at the fabric, “and get into bed.”

“Tsk, so imperious.  I’m not sure I like it.”

He snorted, “Shall I tell you all the times you’ve proved that you do?”

I straddled his legs and he pulled the top of the robe down, trapping my arms at my sides.

“Yes please,” I said, “in detail, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I’d love nothing more,” he dragged me forward, nipping at the skin above my collarbone, “but I have to be up in a few hours.”

“I’ll take a rain check then.  You can tell me a bedtime story when you get home on Sunday.”

His eyes closed, “Why?  Why do you say things like that?  You know that’s all I’m going to be thinking about ‘til I get home.”

“That’s exactly why,” I whispered in his ear, “Now help me out of this thing so I can come to bed.”

He did and I slid in next to him, cuddling into the circle of his arms.  When I put my hand on his chest, my ring, bright and unfamiliar, caught my eye and I smiled.  He put his hand on top of mine.

“Happy?”

“Happy doesn’t even come close.”

“Me too.” He said and reached out to turn off the light.

When his alarm went off, he untangled himself from me and got out of bed, tucking the duvet around me and placing a soft kiss on my forehead.  I nearly drifted off again, but wanted to be awake to say good bye.  I got up and went downstairs to put the kettle on and when the coffee was ready, took two cups back upstairs with me, setting them on the bathroom counter while I brushed my teeth.  I watched his reflection in the mirror, could see him shaving through the steamed up glass and if he hadn’t had a flight to catch, I’d have joined him.  I sat on the bed while he got dressed and organized his suit bag.

“I can’t wait to tell Mum and Dad.” He said, dropping his bag on the bed.

“You got the ring from your Dad, it’s not as though they didn’t know.”

“Actually, Mum doesn’t know anything.  I made Dad promise not to tell her until I’d asked you.  And he didn’t know I was going to ask you last night.”

“No?”

“Kai,” he held my gaze, “I didn’t know until last night.”

“But…you said you had a speech planned.  And you had the ring.”

“I got it from Dad a while ago, because I knew I was going to ask you, one day.  It took some time to get it remounted and I only picked it up this week.  As for the speech,” he shrugged, “I’ve been thinking about it for ages, what I wanted to tell you; what I needed you to know.  I was getting dressed last night and at the last minute, put the ring in my pocket but it was only in the car on the way home when I was sure.”

“What made you decide?”

“You did.” He sat with me, twining his fingers with mine, “At dinner, you were so funny and bright and happy but when you admitted you were nervous, and we talked about the night we met…it made me think of everything that’s happened since that night, of how far we’ve come in such a short time and I decided that it doesn’t matter how long we’ve been together, it only matters how we make each other feel.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  I want nothing more than to be your husband, with all the joy and mess and love that entails.  But I was scared half to death that you’d think I’d lost my mind and you’d say no.”

“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I want what you want, to be together, forever.”

He smiled and lifted my hand to his lips, “Ironically, I have to go.  My car will be here any minute.”

“What time on Sunday will you be back?”

“My flight gets in just after seven.”

“I’ll cook you something special.  Call me tonight?”

“I will.”

I walked him to the front stoop and we held each other, kissing in the doorway until his car arrived.  The driver put his bags in the back and was just getting in the front seat when I ran, barefoot, out to the curb.  The rear window slid smoothly down and I leaned in.

“I forgot to tell you I love you.”

“I don’t think you did.  I’m quite sure you’ve told me at least twice this morning.”

“Oh.  Is it possible you forgot to kiss me goodbye?”

“I don’t think so,” he smiled, “but maybe just once more, to be sure?”

He took my face in his hands and kissed me one more time, “Now go inside you lunatic, you’re getting soaked.”

“Is it raining?  I hadn’t noticed.  Safe flight my love and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I ran back upstairs and went straight up to have a shower.  I’d been so busy running around on Friday that I hadn’t checked my work email so I did it over breakfast.  I quickly fired back a few replies then went to look at the calendar in Ben’s office to see if we were free for either of the dates Bev had offered for her retirement party.  I wouldn’t normally have felt right making plans for Ben without checking with him first but the next few weeks were looking to be very busy for him and I did want him to go to the party with me, so I emailed Bev back, telling her that the following Saturday was good for us.

It was too early to go over to Jem’s and it was still raining, so I took my car and ran out to do a few errands, including a quick run to the auto supply shop for oil and a filter.  The rain had finally let up by the time I got home.   I packed a change of clothes and my toothbrush in my backpack, put my toolkit and the oil in my saddlebags and locked up. 

Jem was out when I got there but I still had my key.  There wasn’t much I could do until he got home because I needed his help to get my bike up the stairs and through the house to the back garden so I went outside to make sure the shed was clean and to find my bike stand.  I looked around, glad to see things weren’t in as bad shape as I’d expected.  I knew there wasn’t much likelihood it was Jem who was keeping it up, so Alice must have been spending a fair amount of time there.  A couple of side boards on one of the raised beds had come loose and while I was repairing it, I heard, over the sound of my hammering, the front door open.  I looked up, taking the nails out of my mouth as Jem came outside.

“Hi.  You’re early.”

“Yeah, I wanted to get the Ducati done before Leah gets here.”

“Alright, you finish what you’re doing there while I put the shopping away and I’ll give you a hand with your bike.”

Once the boards were firmly reattached, I went inside and took a stack of newspapers from the recycling bin, making a path from the front door, through the kitchen and out the back. 

We went out front and I wheeled the bike to the steps.

“Can you take the front end?” I asked, “It’s fairly heavy because I topped the petrol tank up for storage.”

Jem lifted from the front, I pushed from the back and with a little careful maneuvering we got my bike up the steps and through the front door.  I rolled it slowly through the house, Jem guiding me and moving plants and furniture out of my way.  He went back inside to start supper while I got to work, changing the oil and filter, covering the tailpipes so no critters would move in, and lubricating anything might rust over the wet British winter.  The last step was to push it up onto the stand so the tires were off the ground, and pull the cover over it, tying it down with bungie cords.

The house was full of the scent of caramelized onions and garlic and Jem was standing at the sink, peeling and deveining a pile of gigantic prawns while he sang along to Lyle Lovett.

“I’ll clean up and change and then I’ll come and give you a hand.”

“I think there’s still one of your old towels under the sink.” He said over the music.

I’d always kept a couple of ratty towels for after I’d been working on my bike, so the good ones wouldn’t get grease or oil stains and I dug around in the bathroom cupboard until I found one.  I scrubbed my hands clean, fixed my hair and went into my old room to change my clothes.  Back in the kitchen, Jem passed me the bowl of prawns and a package of prosciutto.

“Strip of lemon zest, some spring onion and wrap those for the grill please.”

While I carefully cut paper thin slices of lemon peel, Jem poured me a glass of wine then went back to his side of the kitchen where he had the mixer set up with the pasta rolling attachment.  He rolled and cut pasta while I stuffed and wrapped the prawns and we chatted about work. 

“So that review at the end of the summer got us some attention and business definitely picked up.  Now I’ve just heard from a writer who’s doing a story for a magazine about small restaurants leading the way in reducing the carbon footprint of professional kitchens.”

“That’s exciting!  What magazine?”

“It’s called ‘Locavore’.  They’re based in London and cover restaurants like mine, that source local food and drink.  It’s not huge but anything that gets the name out there is good, right?”

“Yeah, absolutely.  Good for you Jem, god knows you’ve worked hard and you deserve the attention.”

The doorbell rang and Jem yelled, “It’s open!”

“Hi, it’s me.” Leah called.

I covered the prawns, put them in the fridge and rinsed my hands.  Leah came in carrying a bottle of wine and an armful of asters in bright pinks and purples.  Jem still had his hands full with the pasta, so I got her a vase from under the sink.

“There’s a bottle of Pinot Gris open.” I said, putting the vase next to her on the table.

“Yes please.”

She arranged the flowers while I poured her a glass of wine, topped Jem’s up, grabbed mine and joined her.

“Those are pretty.” I said.

I held the glass of wine out to her.  She started to reach for it and stopped.

“Kai?” she looked at me.

“Yes?”

“What is that?” she asked, pointing at my hand.

I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks, my face growing warm.  Hearing her tone of voice, Jem had turned to see what was going on.

“It’s my engagement ring.” I said.

It was the first time I’d said it out loud and it felt strange to hear the words come from my own mouth.  I looked from Leah, her eyes wide, mouth forming a perfect ‘O’, to Jem at the counter, looking just as stunned.

“When?” He asked.

“Last night.”

While I was waiting for one of them to say something, anything, the front door opened and Alice came in.  She stood in the doorway, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What’s happened?” she asked, “You all look as though you’d seen a ghost.”

“Kai’s…” Jem cleared his throat, “engaged.”

Alice launched herself across the kitchen to hug me, “Oh, how fantastic!”

Her enthusiasm broke the tension in the room and the three of them surrounded me, grabbing my hand to look at the ring, clapping me on the back, and now, finally, saying all the right things.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jem said, “But you rather shocked me with that announcement.”

“Jemmy, I’m just as surprised as you are.”

“But you don’t even believe in marriage.” Leah laughed.

“I know.” I said.

“How can you not ‘believe’ in marriage?” Alice asked over her shoulder as she went to hang up her coat.

“It’s a long story, family history,” I answered, sitting down, “but I’ll tell you, if you really want to know.”

“Jem, could I have a drink please?” Alice said, sitting next to me.

Jem and Leah knew how I felt about marriage and weddings, but I’d never explained to them in detail why I felt the way I did.  So now, I told them about my parents, how their example had set me up to view the institution as unnecessary and the ceremony as silly, expensive and wasteful.

“But my Mum and Dad aren’t the only reason.  I have a fair number of friends back in Canada who got married in their twenties and divorced in their thirties.  Seeing that happen just sort of…solidified what I’d kind of already thought.  I just never saw the point.”

“And yet, you’re wearing an engagement ring.” Leah pointed out.

“Yeah I am, because I discovered something really important last night.” Pausing, I grinned, “It turns out, that when you’re so in love with someone that it hurts, I mean, causes you actual, physical pain to imagine your life without them and that person asks you to marry them?  It suddenly seems like the best idea you’ve ever heard.” I laughed, “God, I’m such a hypocrite...”

“I don’t think so,” Alice said, “Isn’t it better to be open to having someone change your mind than to be so sure you’re right that you’re not willing to bend?  And by the way, where exactly is Ben tonight?”

“He’s in Paris, working.”

“How romantic,” Leah grinned, “he proposes and then goes off to France without you?”

“My visa, remember?  I can’t leave the UK right now.  Anyway, it wasn’t planned; he said he only decided in the cab on the way home from the restaurant.”

Jem stood and walked behind my chair, bending down to hug me, “I’m happy for you Maple Leaf, it’s wonderful news.”

“Thank you Jem.”

“I’m going to send a text to your fiancé and then I’ll get supper on the table.”

“Jesus.  I have a fiancé.” I marvelled, the concept so alien to me.

Leah smiled, “Have you set a date?”

“Are you kidding?  We haven’t even told our parents yet.”  I took a deep breath, the reality of the situation starting to sink in, “I hadn’t even thought about that part of it at all, the actual wedding.  Oh god…”

Leah jumped up, “Breathe,” she said and opened another bottle of wine, refilling my glass, “And drink up.”

Alice went to help Jem in the kitchen and a few minutes later, I heard my phone buzz.  It was Ben and I answered it, getting my cigarettes from my bag and going outside.

“I’ve just come up to my room to change before we go out to eat.  I thought it might get late, so I decided to call now.  I’m not interrupting your meal am I?”

“No, we’re still having drinks.”

“I got Jem’s text; will you thank him for me?”

“I will.  I had to tell them because Leah noticed my ring first thing.”

I could hear him smiling, “And?”

“She’s being very supportive, Jem was gobsmacked but recovered quickly and Alice was completely lovely.”

“Have you called your parents?”

“Not yet.” I paused, exhaling smoke into the air, “I wouldn’t have told anyone yet if I hadn’t had to.”

“Uh, I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

“No, no, not because I’m not happy or excited, the opposite in fact.  I kind of wanted to keep it quiet for a while, our little secret.  I wanted time to enjoy it, just the two of us,” I smiled, “before the parents all start sticking their beaks in and getting involved.”

“We still can if that’s what you want.  I haven’t said anything to my Mum and Dad yet either, I wanted us to tell them in person.  I don’t mind waiting until you’re ready.”

“I have this sense that once we start telling people, it’s all going to blow up, it’ll be out of our control and I’m not ready for that yet.” I put my cigarette out, “I’d like for us to be able to get used to it first, just you and me, together.  Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course my love, whatever you want is fine with me.  I personally would like to climb to the top of Parliament with a bullhorn and shout it to the world,” he chuckled, “but I do see your point.  Once it’s out there, there’s no pulling it back, so we’ll hold off for a bit.  But if Leah noticed your ring, others may as well.”  He hesitated, “You weren’t thinking of taking it off, were you?”

“No, absolutely not.  I’ll ask these guys not to tell anyone else and if I’m really concerned, I can turn the ring around so the stone is hidden and it just looks like a plain ring.  But now that I’m wearing it, I’m not ever taking it off.”

The door opened, Jem coming out to light the grill and I told him Ben said thank you for the text.  He motioned for my phone and I passed it over.

“Hold on Ben.” He flapped his hand at me, “Go away, I’m going to talk about you and I need some privacy.”

Laughing, I went back inside.  Alice had everything under control in the kitchen so I sat down with Leah.

“Could you not tell anyone else about this?” I asked them, “We haven’t told our parents yet and we’re going to try and keep it under wraps for a bit.”

“Not even Charlie?” Leah asked.

“Christ, especially Charlie.  I adore him, but he can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

Leah nodded, grinning, “True enough.  He’s got excited puppy syndrome.”

“That reminds me, I had to get a bunch of clothes this week and he went above and beyond to help me out.  I’d like to get him something really special to say thank you but I can’t think what.  Any ideas?”

“Oh yeah, I know exactly what he’d like.  See if maybe Ben could get him an invitation to something really good.  It doesn’t matter what, just something where he can dress up and hobnob with celebrities.  He lives for that stuff.”

“He actually mentioned that once, but I thought he was kidding.  I was probably projecting because the idea of going to events, dressing up and the hair and all that, still makes me so nervous that I can’t imagine wanting to do it for fun.  Ben has a few things on the calendar that I’m not going to.  I’ll see what he can do.”

Jem came inside and passed me my mobile.

“Ben says he loves you, he’ll see you tomorrow night, and you’re not to forget you promised to cook him something special.”

“Uh huh, and what did you say to him?”

“None of your business, just guy stuff.”

Leah and I rolled our eyes at each other and Jem got the prawns from the fridge and took them outside.

We set the table while Alice put the finishing touches on the pasta and when Jem brought the plate of seafood back in, we ate.  Jem’s food incredible, as always and I cleaned my plate.

“Is there dessert?” I asked, eyeing the bowl of pasta on the table.

“No, but if you want something sweet, there’s coffee and liqueur.”

“No, I’m just checking.  I’m full right up to my neck, but,” I reached for the serving spoon, “I can’t help myself.”

“Ooh, is that a good idea?” Leah asked, “You’ve got a wedding dress to fit into.”

I picked a discarded prawn tail from my plate and threw it at her.

“Fuck off you.  I’m going to get enough of that shit from Charlie when the time comes.”

“You’re going to ask him to help?  Isn’t that usually the maid of honour’s job?”

“Is it?  My friends back home knew me well enough that I’ve never been part of a wedding party, only a guest.  How would I know who does what?”

“Traditionally,” Alice said, “the bride shops for a dress with her mother and the maid of honour.”

“Alright then,” I stuck a forkful of pasta in my mouth and said to Jem, “You wanna go dress shopping with me, or would you rather I asked Charlie?” 

“Me?”  His voice came out in a strangled squeak.

“The maid of honour is the bride’s best friend, no?”

Leah grinned, “Yeah, that’s right.  The maid of honour helps find the dress, plans the shower and hen party and keeps the bride from having a meltdown or killing the caterer.”

“I know how to do the last part,” Jem said, “but I don’t have a clue about the other things.”

“I have no idea how to be a bride, so we’re a perfect pair.” I said, getting up and going around the table.  I got down on one knee and took Jem’s hand, “Jeremy, will you be my man of honour?”

His face turned pink and he grinned, “I will, yeah.”

“Good.”  I stood up and said to Leah, “And will you help, so he and I don’t completely fuck it up?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Aww, you’re going to look lovely in your frock.” Alice said to Jem.

Even as I laughed, I noted the way Jem looked at her as he reached for her hand – happy, his affection obvious.  Leah and I cleaned the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher while Jem cleared the table and got a deck of cards.  Ages ago, I’d taught them how to play Euchre, a card game that I’d been playing with my family since I was a kid.  Tonight, we were going to teach Alice.

“You’re my partner,” Leah said to me, “it’s no fun when you and Jem play together, you’re too vicious.”

“Not vicious,” Jem corrected, “competitive.”

“Call it what you want, but if you and Kai play together, I can guarantee you’ll be sleeping alone.”

“Oh no, as bad as that?” Alice asked.

“Worse.” Leah said, “They made Cass cry once.”

Jem and I looked at each other, giggling at the memory.

“We didn’t make her cry; she was just frustrated because she lost.” I said.

“Four games in a row, with the two of you crowing the whole time.  And you cheat.”

“We do not!”

“Oh puh-lease.  Jem’s trying to decide what to call trump and Kai’s saying that she has to dig out some part of the garden and asking if he knows where her ‘spade’ is.  Or Kai says she’s not sure if she has enough to call it and Jem says, join the ‘club’.  It would be funny if it weren’t so pathetic.”

“No table talk tonight, I promise.” I said, “Would you like to play for money?”

“Fuck off.”

Alice opened some more wine, Jem and I switched to whiskey and we played a couple of hands with the cards face up to teach Alice the basics.  She caught on quickly.  Too quickly.  She and Leah absolutely trounced us.

“You’re sure you’ve never played this before?” I asked, shuffling the cards before the third game.

“No, I haven’t.  But did I not mention my Dad is a competitive poker player?”

I looked into her sweetly innocent face, “No, I’m fairly sure I’d have remembered hearing that.”

She shrugged, “Did you still want to play for money?”

I knew she had to be smart if she could keep Jem’s interest but this was a side of her I hadn’t seen before; she was sharper and tougher than I’d realized.  By the time she announced she had to go to sleep, I liked her even more than I had before.

Leah and Alice both went off to bed and Jem and I put on our coats and went to sit in the garden where we could talk without keeping them awake.  We reclined on the loungers in the cool night air.

“I didn’t want to mention it in front of Alice and Leah, but the last time I saw you, things weren’t great between you and Ben.  Then you show up tonight and you’re engaged, so…”

“You’re wondering if there was an ulterior motive to his proposal?”

He sighed, “The thought had crossed my mind.”

“Did you ask him, tonight on the phone?”

“Don’t be daft.  I congratulated him and told him if he hurt you I’d kill him.”

I turned my head so I could see his face in the darkness, thinking ‘oh fuck’ but asking, “How’d that go over?”

He smiled drunkenly, “I was a bit more tactful when I said it to him but that was the gist of it.  He said he understood and then he told me to get bent.  Tactfully, of course.”

“Fucking men.  You’re basically just baboons, aren’t you?  Staking out your territory and making sure everyone knows who the alpha is.”

There was a long pause before he spoke again and when he did, I could barely hear him.

“It wouldn’t make any difference if I said yes, would it?”

I considered carefully before I answered, my mouth suddenly dry.

“What are you talking about?”

He cleared his throat and got up, “Nothing, never mind.  I should go to bed.”

“Hold on a minute.” I said, sitting up.

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob.  He kept his back to me.

“You’re happy.” It wasn’t a question, so I said nothing and he went on, “So am I.  I adore Alice and for all the right reasons, believe me.  I’m not telling you this because I hope it will change your mind but because I need to say it out loud to someone and you’re the only one I can tell because you’re my best friend and that means my secret is safe with you.  So I’m telling you now and then I’ll never say these words to you the same way again, I love you.”

“Jem…” My voice dwindled off. 

“I would never do anything to interfere.” He turned around, “You can still talk to me when you’re scared or angry or confused and I’ll always give you the best advice I possibly can.  I’ll stand beside you when you get married and I’ll be happy for you because it’s what you want but I had to say it out loud, just once.”

My eyes filled with tears as we stared at each other, “I have no idea what to say to you to make it better.”

“There’s nothing to be said.  You can’t fix it or make it go away, only time can do that.  It was selfish of me to tell you, to make you share it with me and that’s why I haven’t told you before now.   Well, that and I was afraid that if you knew, it would change everything.  Most of the time when I’m around you, it’s fine.  You’re my friend, I’m yours and it’s enough.  Every now and then though, I let my guard down, it all comes rushing back in and it nearly takes my legs out from under me.  But it won’t kill me and the longer you’re with Ben, the easier it gets.  It’s such a cliché Kai, but I’d rather have you in love with someone else and still in my life than lose you completely.”

I got up and put my arms around him.  His arms hung by his sides until he realized I wasn’t going to let go until he hugged me back and finally, his arms went around my shoulders, squeezing me tightly.

“I’m so sorry Jemmy.”

“For what?  You can’t be sorry for how you feel, or don’t.”

“I’m sorry that you’re hurting.  I’m sorry for not realizing and blathering on about getting married and, Jesus Christ, asking you to be my man of honour.”

He snorted, “I’m still going to do it.  I meant what I said; I’ll be there with you every step of the way.  We’re friends and your happiness is my happiness.  Please, don’t start treating me differently, I couldn’t take that.”

I took a step back, taking his hands in mine, “Nothing has changed.  You’re my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He nodded, “You’d be fucked, that’s what.”

We hugged again, laughing, half crying and we sat back down in the loungers to finish our drinks.  I think we were both determined to finish the night on a ‘normal’ note, to not have his declaration lingering between us like a barrier.  He changed the subject, awkwardly at first, talking again about the magazine that was going to be doing a piece on the restaurant, but before long we found our feet, the air clearing and the words coming easily as they always had before and we talked late into the night.

I woke in the morning to the smell of toast and coffee.  The bathroom door was closed, the shower running, so I joined Leah and Alice in the kitchen.

“Tea or coffee?” Alice asked.

“Coffee please, black.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Puny.” I said.

She giggled, ‘Yeah, Jem too.  The two of you nearly polished off the whiskey last night.”

“Reminiscing,” I said, “I think the time got away from us.”

“Good, he’s been working too hard lately.  I’m glad he let himself get carried away.”

I reached for a piece of toast.

“Marmite?” Leah offered.

“Are you trying to make me sick?”

“No, if I was trying to make you sick, I’d have offered mustard.  Or maybe a cold sausage?”

“You are a horrible person.”

She grinned, “And you have a green face.”

After breakfast, Jem drove Leah and I home.  He dropped her first and when we got to my house, I opened my door to get out and stopped.

“I’m glad you told me.”

“Told you what?” he grinned.

I shook my head, “I’m not going to pretend you didn’t tell me but you said you didn’t want it to change anything between us and I don’t want things to be weird either.  You’re the best friend I could hope to have Jem, and I don’t want to lose that.”

“It’ll take me a little time Maple Leaf but we’ll be just fine.  I promise.” 

“I love you Jemmy.”

“I know you do.”

I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek then I got out of the car with my pack and my helmet under my arm.  I had a bath and changed my clothes, went to the grocery store then back home to have a nap.  I felt much better afterward and got to work in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables and getting as much done ahead as I could.  I whiled the rest of the day away, reading, lying on the floor with a cushion, following a sunbeam across the room like a lazy cat.  I put the roast in the oven and clicked through Netflix until I found something to watch.  By seven, I was checking my watch every five minutes, excitedly anticipating Ben’s return.

I heard his car pull up and met him at the door.

“Hello my love; how was your weekend?”

He looked tired but happy as he took his jacket off, reaching for a hanger.

“Long and repetitive but it wasn’t terrible.  How was yours?”

“We ate, we drank and we discovered that Alice is a secret card sharp.  Would you like a glass of wine?  Supper will be about half an hour.”

“I think I’ll have a quick shower first.  No, kiss first, shower second.”

Our lips met; his hand on my chin and he hummed quietly.

“Join me?”

“No, I have to make the gravy and carve the roast beef.”

“I love roast beef.”

“And there’s Yorkshire pudding.”

“Be still my heart.”

He showered and, over supper, told me about his trip.  He was in such a good mood, being silly and imitating the people who had interviewed him, pulling faces as he described his struggle to understand his interpreter whose accent was thicker than that of any of the interviewers.  He only stopped talking long enough to groan in happiness over the food.

“You’ve just been in Paris, it’s not like the food was lacking I’m sure.”

“It was good but nothing is better than home cooking, prepared by my wife-to-be.”

We smiled at each other.

“I called you my fiancé yesterday.  Then I forgot how to breathe.”

He laughed, “I won’t take it personally.”

“You should, but only in the sense that you’re the only person in the world I would have said yes to.”

He stroked his lip as he stared into my eyes.

“Let’s go to bed.”

“Yes, let’s,” I stood and took our plates to the sink, “right after we clean up.”

He glanced at the mess and made a face, “Yeah, alright.  Where are you going?” He asked as I walked through the kitchen to the hallway.

“I’ll be right back.”

I ran upstairs, figuring I had at most, five minutes to change before he began to wonder where I was.  I had no complaints about Friday night; it had been everything I could have hoped for.  But tonight, I had plans for him.

I let my hair down and went to the closet to get undressed.  I had bought a new chemise on my last trip to the lingerie store and I found it now, pulling it over my head.  The cream coloured silk was snugly fitted and fell to mid-thigh, with a slit up the leg emphasized by a band of little dark blue lace flowers.  The same lace had been used to make the straps and followed the neckline where it plunged low between my breasts.  I looked in the mirror and after a moment, smiled.  Where I might see fault, I knew he would see beauty and, as always, it gave me confidence.    

Switching the overhead light off, turning on the bedside lamps and folding the sheets and duvet back, I got into bed, leaning back on the pillows with my hands clasped behind my head.  A couple of minutes passed before his voice came from the bottom of the stairs.

“Are you coming back to help or not?”

I grinned to myself and called out, “Not.”

There was no response and then I heard footsteps on the stairs.  He stopped in the bedroom doorway, drying his hands on a kitchen towel.  I felt my pulse rise at the way he looked at me.

“Welcome home.” I said.

“Jesus, look at you.”

I moved to the edge of the bed and sat up on my knees.

“Come here.”

He walked to the bed and stood in front of me, dropping the towel on the floor and placing his hands on my face, kissing me gently.  His hands drifted down my neck, toying with the straps at my shoulders.  I reached up and took his hands in mine.

“When I fantasize, when my mind runs free and I could imagine anything at all, do you know what I think about?” I asked softly.

His pupils flared and he shook his head.

“When I dream about what I want; whether it’s to be seduced and coaxed or restrained and pushed, to be held gently or held down, it’s you.  It’s always you.” 

I let go of his hands and pushed his t-shirt up, helping him out of it. 

“Kai, I…”

I put my fingertips on his lips, “I’m going to give you whatever you want but not until I’ve touched you and kissed you for as long as you can stand it, because that’s what I want.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled myself up, my lips moving over his throat.  He sighed and his hands slid down to push into the small of my back bringing our bodies tight together.  My nipples puckered at the contact and I found his mouth, pushing it open, the tips of our tongues meeting as I sank my hands into his silky hair.  We kissed until his hips began to move and I let my fingers trail down his chest, over his flat belly to the top of his jeans.  I opened them and slid my hand inside.

Raising an eyebrow, I looked at him, “Already?” I teased, smearing the slippery drop of fluid I’d encountered around the head of his cock.

He licked his lips, taking a slow breath, “It does my head in when you talk to me that way.”

“Yes, I know.”

I pulled my hand from his pants, glancing up at him as I licked my thumb and bent to suck his little pink nipple into my mouth, pushing his jeans down his hips, running my hands up and down the outsides of his thighs.  I sat back on my heels, looking up at him.

“Lie on your belly.”

He lay down, crossing his arms and resting his head on them with his long fingers dangling over his biceps, face turned to the side.  I leaned over to kiss him lightly and stretched out beside him, my lips moving over his hand as my hand smoothed down his back.  I alternated between slow, soft strokes with my palm and feather-light tickles with my fingertips until he relaxed, his eyes closed.  I lifted myself on one elbow and slid my leg over his, rubbing my foot up and down his calf and reaching across him to run my fingernails down his ribs.  He made a little sound and shivered.

I rolled on top of him and sat up; scraping my nails along his flanks, slowly increasing the pressure until he hissed, red lines rising on his pale skin.  Holding myself up on my hands, I moved up, the silk of my shift warm where our bodies met but cool on my back.  I nuzzled his neck, inhaling the scent of him, licking and sucking as his hair brushed my face.  Slowly working my way back down his body, I trailed my fingers over his skin, my lips following their path.  Where his skin was firm and tight, my tongue tasted him and where he was more muscular, I sucked his flesh into my mouth and let him feel my teeth.  He grunted and his hips moved, pressing into the mattress.  I eased back, kneeling between his legs and reached under his hip to take his hard shaft in my hand.  He rutted against my palm, breathing through his mouth and I bent over, biting him on the ass.  I grinned as he bucked, with a quiet ‘ohh’.  I squeezed his cock and he began to move faster, thrusting into my hand and I let him, until he was panting, his breath coming short and I released him, putting both hands on his bum and forcing him to stop.

“Not yet,” I whispered, sitting back on my heels, “turn over.”

He took a couple of deep breaths, letting them out slowly and flipped onto his back with his legs on either side of me.  I caressed his calves, firm and well-muscled and smiled at him.

“You’re,” his voice was gruff and he cleared his throat, “killing me.”

“Would you like me to stop?”

“Please don’t.”

I ran my hands up his thighs, slid on top of him and said, “I don’t know why I bothered to ask, even if you’d said yes, I wouldn’t have.”

He put his arms around me, “No?”

“No.  I’d have known you were lying.”

He laughed and I covered his mouth with mine, our tongues twining, sliding together.  His hands moved lower, kneading my ass through the silk of my lingerie and his hips rolled, pushing his hardness against me.  I sat up, reaching for his hands and placing them on my thighs, holding them there, watching his face.  I shimmied and felt his solid shaft between my lower lips, sliding easily in my excited wetness.  I rocked, groaning in satisfaction at the contact, my clit gliding along his cock, my own body providing the lubrication.  I was biting my lip, grinding on him and getting completely carried away when I opened my eyes and saw him watching me.  I slowed, stopped and lifted myself off him.

He reached for me, “No, wait, I want…”

“It doesn’t matter what you want.”

He looked shocked.

I smiled to soften my words, “Not yet at least.  Not until I’ve gotten what I want.”

“Which is what?”

I shook my head, “Too easy.  I’m not going to tell you.  Figure it out, Sherlock.”

And laughing at the look on his face, I scooted back and planted my lips low on his belly, sucking hard and leaving a mark next to his hip bone.

“Mine.” I said, moving lower and nipping the inside of his thigh, ‘All mine.”

“Is that supposed to be a clue?”

“It might be…” I offered, and drew his sac into my mouth, making him gasp.

I caressed his thighs, sucked his balls and looked up at him.  He reached down and wrapped his fingers around his erection, pulling and twisting and I sucked harder, pleasuring him as he pleasured himself.  His breathing grew ragged and again, I stopped him, placing my hand on top of his.  On my hands and knees now, I turned my head to the side and dragged my open mouth all the way up his length.  I kissed the head, smooth and red with arousal, my tongue darting out to trace the thick veins that ran down his shaft.

“Oh god, Kai, suck me.”

“No.”

Lying next to him, I continued to lick at him, kissing, tonguing, never staying in one place for long, frustrating his attempts to maintain contact, slapping his hand away when he tried to help himself along again.  I could feel sweat under my cheek where it lay on his torso, the tension as his muscles clenched and strained and his desperation fueled my own arousal.  I relented, opening wide and taking him deep, clamping my lips tight and drawing back, sucking so hard my cheeks hollowed.  I slipped off the end of his cock with a wet pop and he swore.

“For fuck’s sake, Kai, please.” He groaned.

I turned my head so I could see his face and just barely touched the tip of my tongue to the tip of his cock.  I stared straight into his eyes, now dark with need, and I saw the moment he understood what I wanted from him.

One hand suddenly tangled in my hair, pushing me toward his groin as the other grasped low on his cock, holding it at an angle.

“Open your mouth.” He growled.

With a sigh, I did as he ordered, the change in his demeanor sending shivers of lust straight through me.  He held my head in place and started to thrust, the hand on his cock stopping him from going too deeply as he moved fast, fucking my mouth.  I moaned around his hardness when he moved both hands to hold my head, moving erratically and I let my mouth go slack as he went deep, making me gag.

“Close your lips and suck me and I swear, if I feel your teeth, you’ll be sorry.”

I moaned again, my pussy clenching in response to the edge in his voice.  I sucked him, breathing hard through my nose, fighting my gag reflex.  He sat up and I pulled back, my jaw starting to ache and he pushed me back down, groaning loudly.

“I’m going to come in your mouth, don’t you dare stop.”

Smiling, I let my teeth scrape along his thick shaft.  He yanked my head back, making me look at him, his eyes glittering with anticipation.

“What did I tell you?” He snarled, grabbing me under the arms and dragging me across his lap.

Without any hesitation he spanked my ass and I jumped.  He gave me no time to prepare, his hand smacking down repeatedly, sometimes two or three slaps in the same spot, sometimes jumping from one side to the other, no pattern, no chance to brace myself.  Every third or fourth strike would be harder, then he’d back off, stroking his palm over my skin, his hips moving under my body, evidence that he was as turned on as I was.  He pushed his hand between my legs, fingers moving over me, then inside me, one finger, then two twisting and corkscrewing as I mewled and pushed back against him.

Fingers still deep inside me, his other hand slapped my ass, hard, then again and I whimpered, bearing down on his fingers.

“Benedict please, please will you fuck me now?”

“Get on your knees, hold onto the headboard.”

I could barely move; weak with longing but I crawled off him, up the bed and grasped the top rail.  He knelt behind me, rubbing the head of his shaft against my clit until I was squirming, begging him.  When he finally gave in, pressing his swollen flesh to my opening, I shoved myself back from the headboard with my hands.  As wet as I was, he felt huge as I took his length completely and I cried out as he gripped my hips, pulling back and driving his glorious cock into me again and again.  Overwhelmed with excitement, I used my arms to move my body with him, for him.  Our bodies met with sweaty slaps barely audible under the sounds of our voices, moans of encouragement, involuntary gasps and grunts as we brought each other to the point of no return.

“Please Benedict, show me how good it feels; come inside me.”

Rhythm lost, his speed doubled and with a cry that must have rattled the windows, he sank himself into me, wrapping his arms around my waist and shaking, his whole body vibrating.  My body was rocking with the force of his breathing and he held me there, his lips moving lazily on my back.  I let my head fall forward as I tried to catch my breath.  He slowly pulled us both onto the bed and turned me over, moving between my legs.  He rested his chin on my mound.

“Did I give you what you wanted?” He panted.

“You know you did.”

“How long do you suppose I can draw this out?” He smiled wickedly.

“Oh no, don’t.”

“Don’t call me Sherlock again.”

Grinning, I held my hand up, “Scout’s honour.”

Looking at my hand, he started to laugh, “That’s not the Scouts, that’s Vulcans.”

“Ben?  Please stop talking and make me come.”

“If I just use my hands, I can keep talking.”

“Whatever, I’m not fussy.  Just, please, do _something_.”

He pushed his tongue into my slit and I rapidly lost the ability to talk myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	26. Finding the Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai's trying to deal with the (inevitable?) 'holy shit, we're engaged' freak out. Ben, as usual, has the patience of a saint. Jerk.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 26 – Finding the Balance

 

Rehearsals were starting to get more intense and running longer; Ben had been late getting home all week so it was a pleasant surprise when I pulled in on Thursday evening and his car was already in the drive.  Letting myself in the front door, I was immediately aware of two things, the gorgeous smell coming from the kitchen and his gorgeous voice as he stood at the stove, stirring a pot with one hand and holding his phone in the other.  He looked over, smiling a greeting as I hung my coat in the closet.

I went into the kitchen, putting my arms around him from behind and slipping my hands under his t-shirt, resting my head on his back, feeling the rumble of his voice as he spoke into the phone.  He put the lid back on the pot and his hand pressed down on top of mine, holding them flat against his stomach, trying to stop me from moving them so he could concentrate on his call.  I sneaked my pinkie into his waistband, following the line of hair lower and he grabbed my hand, pulling it away with a squeeze.  Turning around he scowled at my cheeky grin and shook his head, rolling his eyes at me and, as he listened to the person on the phone, kissed me on forehead before walking down the hall to his office. 

I took the lid off the pot and tasted the soup.  It was really very good and I was reminded that he’d once made the point that he’d managed to survive on his own before I’d moved in and taken over most of the cooking.  Too bad I was only remembering this now; once the play opened I’d be fending for myself most evenings.

“You are simply shameless.  That was a business call, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He called from the other room, sounding more amused than annoyed.

“Yeah, I know.  Don’t care.” I shouted back while washing the containers from my lunch bag.

“I think you…damn it,” I heard him say as the phone rang again; “Sorry, I have to take this.”

I left him to his phone call and looked out the window at the trees blowing in the wind before going out to the terrace.  The weather had cooled considerably, the leaves turning and I knew we should get the plants and furniture cleared away this weekend before everything ended up destroyed by wind and rain.  When I went back inside, I noticed the mail on the dining table.  It had been sorted into two piles; no prize for guessing that the smaller one was mine.  I quickly flicked through the envelopes, looking for anything that could be from Immigration.  It was starting to come down to the wire and with less than two weeks before my visa officially expired, I decided I’d better put in a call to my lawyer before the weekend.  Trying to tamp down my anxiety, I chucked the mail back on the table and listened.  Ben was still on the phone.  I looked at my watch and figured if he was going to be busy for a while, I was going for a run so I went upstairs to change.  I put my shoes on and went to the office, took a piece of paper, wrote ‘Back in an hour’ and slid it across the desk.  He glanced at it, then up at me with a nod and he pointed at his mouth, inviting the soft, quiet kiss I gave him before I left.

I ran up along one of my usual routes, a loop that measured nearly 10 kilometres and stayed to the paved paths.  In daylight I’d run on the grass, explore the landscape, but in the evening, stayed where there were other people especially now that the light faded earlier.  I ran and listened to music, a heavier playlist that encouraged me to run faster and cleared my mind better than meditation.  Two blocks from home, it started to rain and I sprinted to cover the short distance before I got soaked. 

Putting my shoes away in the closet, I could hear that he hadn’t finished his call.  I knew it was work, but I couldn’t help feeling slightly annoyed.  He’d been late every night this week, had finally gotten in today at a decent time and now, had been on the phone since I’d been home.  I checked the soup, turned the flame off and pulling my hair from its ponytail, walked down the hall. 

I cleared my throat and when he looked up I tapped my watch face and said, quietly, “Tick tock.”

He nodded at me but was immediately distracted by something the person on the other end of the phone said and he was off again.  Muttering to myself – it may have been something like ‘for fuck’s sake’ – I stomped up the stairs to take a shower, in the moment, too pissed off to care if I was being immature.  By the time I’d washed my hair and dried off, I’d calmed down and decided to take the bull by the horns.  I dug around in the drawer until I found a silky pair of underwear, very pretty and so delicate they were nearly see-through.  I left my wet hair loose around my shoulders, pulled on one of his t-shirts and went back down to his office where I crossed my arms and leaned on the door frame, watching him. 

He was turned to the side, unaware of my presence, his bare feet crossed at the ankles and propped on the desk, the fingers of his free hand idly tracing circles on the arm of his big chair.  I sighed and he heard me, glancing up.  I stayed where I was but hooked my fingers under the hem of the t-shirt and smiled.  He frowned and shook his head at me, ‘no’. 

He closed his eyes when I started to lift the t-shirt up so I waited until he opened them again and pulled it over my head.   He raised his finger at me, warning me off with a stern look.  I smiled and let the shirt dangle from my finger before dropping it.

Into the phone, he said, “It’s not the end of the world if he doesn’t get it finished before Christmas.  I’d rather he took his time and got it right.”

I walked across the room and tickled the sole of his foot with my fingernail until he jerked his legs back and sat up.  Sitting in the centre of the desk, I hooked my foot into the arm of his chair, rotating it so he was facing me.  His eyes scanned my body, lingering on my breasts and my skin tingled, nipples hardening.

“Yeah, of course Chris, I understand completely.  It isn’t as though I’m not still interested but I won’t commit until I’ve seen the rewrites.”

Now he seemed to at least be making an effort to wrap the conversation up but this Chris person on the other end kept talking.  Ben’s hand came up to cover his face, avoiding looking at me until I reached out and firmly removed it.  I scooted closer to the edge of the desk, smiling sweetly and silently challenging him to continue his conversation as I leaned back a little, raising my feet to the arms of his chair for balance, and he shot me a dirty look.

“Given the state of the first one, I think you’re being a bit unfair.”

I heard his breath catch as I slid my hand into the front of my underwear and began stroking myself.  He shook his head at me again but he was trying very hard to keep a straight face as I stuck my tongue out at him, playful but also suggestive and now he did grin at me.  I pushed my hand down, my fingers slipping between my lower lips and his eyes followed their movement.

“Do what you have to do, of course,” he said to Chris, his eyes never leaving my hand, “but you know my position and it’s not going to change.”

“Oh, I think it is.” I whispered, deliberately provoking him as I began to circle my clit with my middle finger.

He watched me intently for a couple of minutes as he tried to listen to Chris on the other end of the line and he suddenly sat forward, opening the top desk drawer.  He reached into the drawer, pulling out a pair of scissors.  I held my breath as he opened the scissors and carefully slid the cold blade under the leg of my underwear at my hip, slicing easily through the thin cloth, then did the same on the other side, which I found absurdly exciting.  Putting the scissors away, he grabbed the fabric and yanked it out from under me then sat back in his chair.

“Yeah, I’m well aware what you’re offering,” he said into the phone as he looked straight into my eyes, “but you’re going to have to do better than that if you want something firm from me.”

I just managed to stop myself from laughing out loud as he gave me a devious grin and I let one foot slide from the arm of the chair to his lap, pressing gently against his groin.  Now, when I moved my fingers over my own flesh, I could feel the evidence of my arousal and was as turned on by the way he watched me as I was from the contact.  As I alternated between slow swirls over my clitoris and long strokes up and down between my swollen lips, my hips began to move and I could feel him stiffening with my foot flexing against him.  I sat forward just enough to open his jeans and I thought I had him when he managed to pull his shirt over his head without dropping the phone.  I slipped my hand back between my legs and leaned back on one elbow, letting my knees drop open.

“Hmm, that’s a very interesting development.  Hold on a sec Chris, I need to make some notes.  I’m just going to put you on speaker so I have my hands free.”

I’d started this, messing with him, teasing him but now I began to sit up, shaking my head at him, realizing that in one move, he’d taken the upper hand.    Chuckling silently, he raised his finger to his lips, warning me to be quiet but as he set the phone on the desk I tried to get up.  His hands went around my waist, holding me firmly in place.

“Go ahead, what was it you were saying?”

As Chris’s voice floated through the air, Ben put one hand on my sternum, pushing me onto my back and I bit the inside of my cheek as his fingers went between my legs, feeling my readiness.  He probed at my entrance, dipping his finger inside me then pulling out to rub over my clit and I grabbed for the hand that rested on my chest, gripping hard as I struggled to stay quiet.  I had no idea how he was managing to carry on a conversation because as he moved his hand over me I rapidly lost track of what they were talking about, trying desperately to not make a sound as his long finger smoothly penetrated me.  He leaned over me, in between sentences licking and sucking at my breasts and when he pulled a nipple between his lips, letting me feel his teeth, my mouth fell open and I was unable to hold in a gasp.  The hand I’d been holding flew up to cover my mouth and he cleared his throat to mask the sound I’d made.  Watching my eyes over his hand, he worked a second finger into my pussy and he fucking _grinned_ at me.  I started giggling, my arousal translating into giddiness as he toyed with me.   

“Uh, Ben, is there someone else there?” Chris asked, “Because this is all supposed to be confidential.”

Ben took his hand from my mouth and looked at me expectantly, daring me to talk, daring me to string a sentence together as he pushed his fingers deep inside me and twisted his hand.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” my voice came out shaky and I hoped it sounded normal enough over the speaker, “but we, uh…need to get going.”

I heard Chris, “Oh, I didn’t realize you had somewhere to be.  I’ll let you go, but think about what I said, talk to your agent and get back to me in the next couple of days, alright Ben?”

“Yup, will do.  Thanks Chris.”

He hit the disconnect button and I swatted him on the shoulder as he cackled with laughter.

“You are unbelievable!” I laughed.

“Serves you right,” he grinned, “you knew it was a business call.  I couldn’t just hang up because you were horny.”

“I’ve learned my lesson, it won’t happen again.  How the hell you were able to keep talking as though nothing was going on is completely beyond me.”

“It took every ounce of concentration I had, trust me.”

I hopped off the desk, sliding my hands down his back, squeezing his ass and pushing his jeans down as I guided him back to sit in the chair.  I knelt down and sucked him between my lips.  I meant to take my time, to let him enjoy it but as soon as I had him, warm and solid in my mouth I felt a glow of heat in my groin and I needed him inside me.  I let go, pumping him with my hand and I looked up into his eyes.

“I can’t wait, I want you now.”

He slid forward in the chair and reclined, pulling me by the hands so I was sitting on top of him.  I went up on my knees and he wrapped his fingers around his cock and held himself to me.  Necessity forced me to go more slowly than I wanted to as I took every inch of him into me, feeling his hardness, the splendid ache as I stretched around him.  He took my hands, pressing them to his chest and I could feel his heart pounding.  My knees were wedged between his hips and the arms of the chair so I couldn’t lift myself up and had to be content with grinding on him, which seemed to be causing him great frustration as he tried to thrust into me.  In almost no time at all I was nearing orgasm, moaning softly as I ground my clit into his pubic bone when with an exasperated growl, he sat up, his arms going around my waist and holding me tightly as he stood, taking my weight on his hips.  I wrapped my legs around him.

“Sorry lovely, but that wasn’t working for me, I need to be able to move with you.”

“It was working for me.” I sulked, putting my arms around his neck.

He turned his head, his mouth moving up my neck to my ear and when he said, “I’ll make it up to you,” I felt his voice right down to my core.

Every step he took, walking from the office to the sitting room made his hips roll into me and when he sat down on the sofa and I settled onto his lap, my weight pushed him deep. 

“That’s much better.”

“Is it?” I asked, tracing his top lip with my ring finger.

“Yes, I can see you, I can move with you.”  He pulled me close, hands caressing my back, “Is there anything better than this?”

“How could anything be better than this?  We’re together, it’s perfect.”

He smiled sweetly, the lines around his eyes deepening and my heart leapt at how beautiful he was, at the love I could see in his face and I kissed him.  Our tongues met and we were gentle at first but quickly, hands moving on each other’s bodies, we grew feverish and urgent, breathless.  My hands on his shoulders, his muscles bunching as I circled my hips, I watched him, my own physical need now distant to my intense desire to give him what he needed.  I met his thrusts, moving with him; his head fell back, breath rasping in his throat as I flexed, tightening for him.

“Yes, take it.  Ride me.”

I was trying to hold on, to wait for him but the low moans rumbling from his chest and the fantastic pressure from his deep stroking were too much; I threw myself forward, my hands clasped behind his neck and he grabbed my ass, pounding himself into me. 

“I’m…I’m…ohh Jesus, Ben!”

My back arched as I cried out, my whole body shaking.  Holding me tightly, knowing how sensitive I usually was after I climaxed, he stopped moving, his breath hot where his mouth pressed against my chest and I sat up.

Our eyes met and I licked my lips, “Keep going.”

“You don’t need me to wait?”

“No, don’t stop,” I husked, squirming in his lap, “I want another one.”

“So greedy,” he said, his eyes narrowed, glittering with lust, and his voice dropped, acquiring that sharp edge I never failed to respond to, “I’ll give you what you want, but I want something too.”

“Anything.”

His hands were still on my bum and he lifted me, “Up on your knees.  All the way up.”

As I rose, he reached down and grasped himself in one hand, the other slipping between my legs to caress me.  His hand moved back and my head dropped to his shoulder as he slowly worked a finger, slippery from touching me, into my ass.  I nipped at his neck, my tongue running over the marks I made while he carefully stretched me, two fingers now, just inside me.

I whispered, “That’s enough, I’m ready.”

He hesitated then his fingers went deeper and I whimpered but I didn’t pull away.

“I don’t think you are.” He said quietly.

“I am.  Please Benedict,” I held his face in my hands and looked at him, “I want it to hurt, at first.”

His eyes searched mine and found the reassurance he needed.  He kissed me, rubbing his cock in my wetness then he shifted his weight, moving closer to the edge of the sofa.  He pressed the head of his penis to my ass and I took a long, slow breath and eased back to take him.  I gripped his shoulders, digging my fingers into the muscle and stared into his eyes. 

I kept trying to take more but he held me, staying in control, barely inside me, moving so slowly, waiting for me to adjust and then he’d pull out, smiling wickedly at my increasingly determined efforts.  Then the whole thing would begin again, the first moment of sharp discomfort as he breached me and every time, going a little deeper, pushing me a little further until I’d lost count of how many times he’d tormented me this way and I finally let my guard down.  He felt it, he knew and grabbing my hips to hold me in place, plunged himself completely inside me with a loud cry.

“Is that what you wanted?”

“Oh, ohh Benedict, yes…”

“Tell me how it feels.” He demanded, lifting me, pulling me down onto his shaft.

I dragged a breath through my teeth, “Big.  It hurts.  Don’t stop, please.”

His eyes, dark and intense, were riveted to my face, his breathing fast and a fine sheen of sweat on his chest but even now, his discipline held.  He moved steadily with short, even thrusts as I moaned and cried out but he was holding back, waiting for a sign from me that he could let himself go.  Still on my knees, I slipped a hand behind his neck, taking a handful of hair and let my other hand trail over my breasts, down my belly and lower, so I could reach my clit.  He watched my hand, watched as I began to pant, my abdominal muscles tensing and then he took me firmly by the wrist, raising my hand to his mouth; so hot as he sucked on my fingers.  He put his hand where mine had been.  A couple of rough strokes over the exquisitely sensitive bundle of nerves had me on the verge of coming when he abruptly thrust two fingers into my pussy, his thumb hard against my clit. 

“Fuck me,” I could barely get the words out, both hands tangling in his curls, “I need…ow, ohh god, need you.”

And now, his restraint gone, we moved as one.  I rose and fell with the insistent rhythm of his hips, his long fingers, the heady, euphoric mix of pain and stimulation.  I dragged his face to mine, claiming his mouth in a hard kiss; we bit and sucked at each other’s lips and my orgasm tore through me, white hot and toe-curlingly intense.  Ben’s arms encircled my waist, holding me to him for his last flurry of fierce strokes until he shouted his release and fell back, taking me with him.

I lay against his chest, lips brushing his throat as we fought for breath.  Our sweat-slicked bodies cooled quickly, my long hair still wet where it lay on my back and I shivered in his arms.

“Cold or after-shock?” He asked softly.

“Cold.”

He squeezed me tightly and turned his head for another kiss, gentle and loving, warming me from the inside.  I opened my eyes and we smiled at each other.

“Come on,” he said, “shower with me and then I need to eat.  I’m ravenous.”

We showered and toweled each other dry until our skin was warm and pink.  I put on his robe and went downstairs to re-heat the soup while he set the table and I made fun of his outfit – flannel pajama pants, ratty old t-shirt and cardigan.

“You look like my grandfather.  Good thing we had sex before you changed.”

“Get off your high horse; you know perfectly well it wouldn’t have made the slightest bit of difference.”

I grinned up at him while I stirred, “No, it wouldn’t have.”

He brushed his lips across my cheek and got serious, “One thing though…that was a business call.  It was important.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, “I know and I’m sorry but you’ve been working late all week.  It was selfish, but I just wanted you to myself.  I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“I’m sorry too, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten; I should have cut it short when you got back from your run.”

“Look at us, all sorry and shit.”

He laughed and reached around me to dig the corkscrew out of the drawer, “The soup’s hot; I’ll open a bottle of red.”

We ate, talking about work, mine and his, and then we cleaned the kitchen and went to bed early.  I lay across the bed with my head in his lap while we read, me a gardening magazine and Ben his script.  He was distracted though, his lack of focus obvious in the way he kept sighing, turning the pages backward because his mind had wandered, and playing with my hair when normally, other than his incessant and beguiling lip stroking, he was so still while he worked on his lines.  I sat up and pushed his script down so he’d look at me.

“How many times have you read that page?”

He grinned, “Too many.”

“Mmm, I knew it.” I smiled, “What’s up?”

“I’m distracted.” He reached for me, pulling me onto his lap, “I can’t stop thinking about earlier.”

I nodded, still smiling, “And?”

“It was different than how it is when I’m behind you.”

“Well…duh.” I snickered.

“What I mean,” He glared at me and lightly flicked my nipple with his fingertip, “is that usually, when I take you from behind, it’s raw, animalistic and, don’t get me wrong, I love that.”

I interrupted, “So do I.”

“Yeah, I know you do.  But it was fascinating to watch your face, to see everything you were feeling, particularly tonight.”

“Why tonight, particularly?”

“Because every other time we’ve had anal sex, I’ve been behind you.  This was the first time we’ve done it face to face and I could really look into your eyes while I was inside you.”

“And what did you see, in my eyes?”

“Passion and lust; emotion.  I could see when it was painful and how it turned you on.  And I could see how much you trust me; I could see it shining out of you like a beacon.”

I pressed my lips to his and said, “I trust you because I love you.  And you know me so well; you always give me exactly what I need and know how far you can push me.” 

He frowned a little, “It’s a great deal of responsibility to place on someone.”

“Yes, it is.” I agreed, cupping his cheek in my palm, “And that’s why I’ve never given that responsibility to anyone but you.”

“So, no pressure then?” He smiled but there was a trace of doubt in it.

“No pressure Ben.” I assured him, “You’re not alone in this.  If it’s ever too much, I’ll tell you.  You know, it’s only partly physical for me, the excitement I feel when you’re pushing our boundaries.  It’s just as much mental, maybe more.  In the back of my mind the whole time is this idea that you’re in charge, that you’re deciding for me what I need and how far I can go, how much I can take.  But I want you to get as much from these…games, sessions?  I don’t know what to call them, but if you ever aren’t getting the same kind of pleasure from them that I do, then we’ll stop.  The last thing I want is for you to feel as though you can’t be free to let yourself take what you need from me because that’s what I really want, it’s what _I need_ , especially in those moments when you’re dominating me.”

He nodded, taking in what I’d said.

“I know what you mean about the combination of physical and mental, it’s the same for me.  But it’s always like that for me, no matter what we’re doing or how.  I can get nearly as turned on by thinking about you as I can by touching you.  Someone made me a cup of Earl Grey at rehearsal yesterday and when I smelled it, the bergamot,” he shook his head, embarrassed, “I actually started to get hard because it smelled like you.”

I laughed, tickled by his admission and he went on, “But it’s been like that for me since the beginning, the way you affect me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.  And I think what I’m worried about is, what if I were to really let myself go and I went too far?  What if, in a moment of passion I was to lose control and I actually hurt you?  I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

Looking into his eyes, I was intrigued, curious if there was something specific he wanted to try that he was concerned about and I nearly asked him, but it seemed more important right then to make sure he understood the depth of my faith in him.

“Ben, my love, that’s why we have a safe word and we do usually talk and decide beforehand what’s going to happen; you’ve rarely sprung something new on me out of the blue without asking first.  But if you did, or if you went further with something we’ve done before, well,” I shrugged, “I guess I’d wait to see how it felt and whether it was more than I could handle.  I meant what I said before, I don’t want you to ever hold back, because I need for you to get as much as you give.  We give and we take, in equal measure; it only works if there’s a balance.  It’s kind of a metaphor for our whole relationship, really.”

I kissed him softly and out of the blue he asked, “Can we just hurry up and get married?  What are we waiting for?”

And there it was again, the little tingle of apprehension I felt whenever I thought about actually getting married and that I was trying so hard to hide from him.  I let my head drop to his shoulder so he couldn’t see my face.

“What’s the rush?  I’m not going anywhere; I’m yours Ben, completely and forever.”

“So you’ve said.” He took my hand, brushing his lips over my knuckles, “I know it doesn’t matter to you, the ceremony, the whole pomp and circumstance, so I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing your hand but it does mean something to me.  I’m traditional that way.  And I want to be able to call you my wife.  I want to be your husband.”

Only Jem, Alice and Leah knew that we were engaged.  I hadn’t even told my parents yet.  When I’d asked Ben if we could wait before we told everyone, he’d told me he understood and hadn’t said another word about it until now.  I wasn’t even one hundred percent sure why I was hesitant; it certainly wasn’t because of him, but until I could figure out exactly what it was and deal with it, I was going to need him to be patient.

I hugged him close, “It never mattered to me before but I know what it means to you and that makes it important to me too.  I’m not dragging my feet about picking a date because of you, I promise.  Can you give me a little more time?”

“I can.  I’m not going anywhere either.”

“No you aren’t, because you love me.”

“Yes I do.” He rolled onto his side, pulling me with him, “Now, kiss me goodnight.  Kiss me so I dream of you.”

“Oh Ben, you really do say the sweetest things.”

I felt a powerful surge of love for him, making me wonder how it was possible that I could make him wait, for anything, but when I felt his smile on my lips, the doubt, the negative thoughts left me.  When it was just us, alone, I wasn’t afraid of anything.  It was only when I had to take the rest of the world into consideration that I began to doubt.

On Friday morning, as soon as I got to work, I called and left a message with the receptionist at my lawyer’s office, but wasn’t hopeful that I’d hear back from him before the weekend.  Later, I left Myra to run the office and spent the afternoon checking in on a few long-term clients that I hadn’t seen in a while, making sure they were happy with the work we were doing for them and doing a circuit of each property, seeing for myself if we were keeping our standards up.  Sitting in Dr. Beebe’s kitchen, drinking tea, I glanced out the window and realized that it was getting dark and I’d lost track of time chatting with the old gentleman.  Ben and I were meeting some friends of his for supper and I couldn’t be late because I was supposed to pick him up from rehearsal on my way.  I made my apologies to the professor and bolted out the door.

It never failed, whenever I was running late, there was always traffic and by the time I got home I was in a complete lather.  Dialing his number, I took the stairs to the bedroom two at a time, tripping over the top one and stubbing my toe, so when Ben answered, all he heard was swearing.

“Goddamn fucking fuck!”

“Erm…yes, I suppose so.  Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not.  I’m so sorry, I just got home; I’m not even close to ready and now my toe is bleeding.  I think it might be best if you got a cab and I met you at the restaurant.  Is that OK?”

“Of course it is.  Why is your toe bleeding?”

“I fell over the top step,” I exhaled slowly, “I feel terrible for being late.”

“Don’t worry, it happens.  Besides, traffic in the city looks awful tonight so there’s a good chance none of us will be on time.  In fact, I’ll call Joanna and see if they want me to swing by and pick them up on the way.  Take your time.  We’ll order a drink and you just get there when you can.  And don’t drive like a maniac.” 

We hung up and I went into the bathroom to see to my toe.  It wasn’t too bad once I’d washed it off, but I’d split the nail so now I’d be limited in my choice of footwear for tonight.  I wrapped a plaster over the end of my toe and went to the closet to try on shoes.  Luckily, my favourite tall boots had enough room for my bandaged toe and they went with the navy blue jersey dress which I loved so that was a relief.  I twisted my hair up into a loose bun and fixed my make-up, got dressed and headed back out.

I didn’t normally smoke in my car but I was trying to stay calm while I made my way through London to the restaurant, forcing myself to go slowly and not to treat the other cars as competitors in a giant video game.  At least I wouldn’t have to worry about parking; the restaurant was in a hotel.  I was at a red light when my mobile started ringing and I dug in my purse to find it.

“Where are you?” Ben asked.

I gave him my location, assuring him I should only be another 10 or 15 minutes.

“I’m so sorry, but Lady Gaga showed up just as I was arriving and she was followed from the airport so now the place is crawling with rabid paparazzi.  Call me when you’re a minute away and I’ll come out and meet you.”

My heart rate sped up.  One or two photographers were something I thought I could deal with but in a group, they were likely to be much worse if the pack mentality took over and they got aggressive.

“I don’t know Ben; maybe it’s better if you don’t?  By myself they won’t even notice me, but if you come out to wait for me, isn’t that just chumming the waters?”

He was quiet for a moment, thinking.

“Maybe…but if someone does recognize you, you’ll be on your own.  I don’t want that.  Although,” he hesitated, “I can see hotel security is watching the doors now.”

“I only have to get from the car to the front door; how bad could it be?”

He growled into the phone, “I hope you’re not tempting fate by asking that.  Call me anyway.  I’ll wait in the lobby so I’m close by if it looks like you’re in trouble, alright?”

I promised I’d let him know when I got there and hung up.  I sort of wished he hadn’t warned me.  He was only trying to help but now I was nervous, with photographers on top of the fact that I was meeting another of Ben’s old friends.  I lit a second cigarette and slowed down to give myself time to smoke it. 

When I made my last turn a couple of blocks from the hotel, I hit speed dial and told him where I was.  Approaching the hotel, I could see two groups of photographers, one on either side of the hotel doors, being kept at bay by the hotel staff.  I put my purse on my lap, pulled up to the curb and opened my door.  The valet was there immediately, offering me his hand as I stepped from my car.  I focussed on the front doors and walked quickly, only having to cover a couple of metres and for a few seconds, I thought I was home free.  Until I heard, “That’s Cumberbatch’s girlfriend.”

I sped up as they began shouting at me, trying to get me to look this way or that and one or two of them actually using my name as flashes started to pop, the strobe effect making it difficult to see where I was going.  I brought my hand up to shield my eyes, just barely managing to avoid walking into a barrier I hadn’t seen until the last second and then Ben was beside me, his arm going around my shoulders as he steered us into the hotel and, not slowing, through the lobby.

“Jesus, that got a bit hairy.” I exhaled.

“You, my love, are a master of understatement.  All good?”

“Mm-hmm, I think so.” I said, blinking rapidly as my vision cleared, “That was much more intimidating than the red carpet; they were so much closer.  Thank you for coming and getting me, I could barely see.”

“I’m glad you told me not to come out to meet you, it might have made it worse.”

“I should have let you,” I said, trying to shake off the nerves as we walked into the restaurant, “You could have distracted them while I made a clean get away.”

Laughing, he took my hand and led me to our table.  He pulled my chair out and as I sat, introduced me to his friends, Joanna and her husband Trevor.  Ben and Joanna had grown up together, their parents close friends but since she and Trevor had moved to the States years earlier, they didn’t see each other very often.  Trevor poured me a glass of wine while Joanna asked me about my arrival.

“I’d only ever seen it on television, celebrities getting mobbed like that, until we arrived with Ben tonight.  How was it when you got here, awful?”

I smiled, not wanting Ben to see how rattled I was, “It could have been worse.  At least I didn’t have far to go.”

“How often does that sort of thing happen?” Trevor asked, “I mean, it’s not every time you leave the house is it?”

“Oh god no,” Ben said, “for the most part it’s only at events.  Well, on this kind of scale anyway.  Tonight was an aberration, just bad timing with the paps following Lady Gaga.  I’m just glad hotel security saw us arrive and came out to help.”

Joanna grinned, “I thought we were in some kind of trouble when we got out of the cab and the man in the suit came up to you.  He had a thingy in his ear like he was MI5 or something.”

The waiter arrived with menus and Joanna ordered another bottle of wine while we decided what to eat.  We chatted, getting to know one another and Trevor was pleased to hear where I was from.

“We’re going skiing in Canada for Christmas this year.  Have you ever been to Whistler?”

I nodded, “I’ve been a couple of times but not for a while now.  I’m afraid I probably can’t help you with restaurant recommendations or anything like that.”

“No problem, but you’ve skied it?”

“Yes.”

Trevor and Joanna were avid skiers and had travelled all over North America to pursue their hobby.  I propped my elbows on the table, leaning forward as Trevor and I discussed ski hills and snow conditions at different resorts we’d been to.  Ben’s hand rested in the small of my back while he and Joanna talked, catching up.  Our appetizers arrived and Trevor tried to refill my wine but I stopped him and ordered a glass of sparkling water instead.

Ben said, “We can always leave your car here and pick it up tomorrow.  In fact, that might be the best plan since we can get a taxi to pick us up in the car park downstairs.”

“That’s alright.  I have some running around to do in the morning so I should keep a clear head.  And we have Bev’s party tomorrow, remember?  I’ll drive tonight and you can drive tomorrow.”

“Right, well in that case,” he said, nodding to Trevor to top up his glass, “I might just have a little more.”

He had more than a little as the evening progressed and by the time he’d paid the bill and we were ready to go, he was quite tipsy; not to the point of slurring, just a bit…over the top.  Depending on his mood, drink affected him differently and tonight, he was being completely soppy; romantic and affectionate.  He kept telling his friends how in love he was, how happy and content.  It was slightly embarrassing and it was absolutely endearing.

Most of the photographers had cleared out, only a few stragglers remaining and hotel security walked us to our car, keeping them from getting too close as I buckled my seatbelt, flipping the visor down to block out the flashes and put the Rover in gear.  I pulled away from the curb and out into traffic, heading for home as Ben played with the buttons on the dash, looking for music.

“Oh, wait, wrong car.”

He dug around in his bag and surfaced with a triumphant sound, plugging his phone into the sound system and thumbing the screen.  After a moment, a familiar song began to play and he turned the volume up, relaxing back into his seat with a happy smile on his face, his eyes closing.  I drove; listening to my own voice filling the car, the chorus - my voice mingling with Jem’s to produce a bittersweet harmony.  Once Jem and I had recorded a song, I only ever listened to it again if I felt I needed to work on something, singing along with the track to find and fix weak spots, so it was hard to hear myself and not listen with a critical ear.  Ben reached out and turned the volume higher, his hand dropping to rest on mine, squeezing gently. 

When the song ended, I said, “I didn’t know you had that on your phone.”

“I have several.  After I filmed you that first time, I asked Jeremy if he had better quality recordings and now he sends me anything new.”

I grinned, “You don’t even like country music.”

The next song started and he turned to look at me, “I like you though.  Quite a lot actually.”

“Do you?  I’d never have guessed, based on the way you carried on tonight.”

“I can’t help it.  Talking about you, us, makes me happy and since I have to be so careful, I go a bit overboard when it’s someone safe to talk to.”

Though Ben had stopped short of telling Joanna he’d proposed, I had noticed her looking at my ring several times.  I knew how badly Ben wanted to be able to tell his family and his friends but something was still stopping me from taking that leap and after my arrival at the hotel, I had a better idea what it was. 

The whole idea of our engagement being in the public eye was daunting.  I wanted it to be true that I didn’t care what people thought and for the most part, it was, as long as it was on an individual basis.  Then it was easy because if I felt that I was being judged, I could defend myself.  The press was a whole other can of worms, because there was no real way to control what they printed, other than Ben’s reps issuing constant statements and I wouldn’t have that because in my mind, that was nearly as invasive as the media scrutiny.  That’s why he was so much more careful now, since his one slip just before my birthday.  I didn’t mind if he talked about how he felt about me, I just didn’t want anyone who wasn’t family or friends to know what was happening in our personal life. 

And there was one other thing that was still hanging over my head like a sword – my visa.  Until I knew for sure that it had been approved, I couldn’t marry him in case it got out that my residency was in jeopardy.  It would kill me if people thought I’d only done it to stay in the country.  According to Leah, there were already rumours making the tabloid rounds and the last thing I wanted was for anyone to think that I had married him for anything besides love.

I sighed, a tinge of sadness creeping around the edges of what had turned, after an inauspicious start, into a lovely evening.  In the car, music playing, he seemed peaceful and unaware of the change in my mood, darkening as I drove us home but when we walked through the front door and he put his arms around me, holding me in silence, I knew he’d felt it.

“Talk to me.”

I rested my head on his chest, pleased that he knew me so well and annoyed that I was so bad at hiding anything from him, not wanting to put a damper on his good mood.

“Can we not talk, just this once?”

His fingers grazed my jaw and he tilted my head so I had to look at him, his eyes soft with concern, “Whatever you need.  You only ever have to ask.”

“Take me to bed.  Make me feel safe.”

I saw the worry flash across his face, gone in a second and I felt terrible.  I couldn’t decide whether it would be better or worse to tell him what was making me so gloomy when I was having trouble justifying it, even to myself.  He didn’t push me though, understanding what I needed from him. 

While we stood beside the bed, he undressed us both, pulled the pins from my hair and ran his fingers through it while he kissed me with such gentleness that it nearly brought tears to my eyes.  We moved onto the bed and Ben stretched out beside me, his hand resting on my stomach, heat radiating from his body.

“You know I’ll fix it if I can; whatever it is?” His voice low and tender, “I’ll do anything…”

“I know.  I love you Ben.”

“I love you too, beautiful girl.”

After that, we didn’t speak again but for soft murmurs of arousal, a sigh as his lips closed on my nipple, my sharp inhale as he slowly slipped his finger inside me and his answering one as my muscles tightened in response.  With infinite patience he gave me what I’d asked for, love and comfort, his long limbs wrapping around me, keeping me tight to his body as he brought me close to orgasm before moving on top of me.  He waited for me to settle, kissing me deeply; his tongue gliding over mine, skin to skin, hands exploring my body until I thought I couldn’t stand another second without him inside me.

He pressed into me, easing me open and I lifted my hips, moaning my pleasure as he sank his length into my core.  His arms snaked under my back and his forehead rested on my chest as he pulled out and plunged forward, taking me.  He knew what I needed to feel safe.  I needed him, the weight and warmth of his body; the sublime fullness of him inside me that drove my desire to give him everything and to take everything from him.

My fingers kneaded the long muscles of his back, pulling him into me and I breathed his name, over and over.  He groaned, long and loud and that was the final piece I needed, his climax my ultimate aphrodisiac.  I came, shaking and clinging to him before finally falling back onto the pillow, utterly spent.  He ducked his head, his pointed tongue licking from my chest to my throat and he tucked his chin into the hollow of my shoulder with a sigh of contentment. 

I turned to kiss his forehead, his curls tickling my nose and he whispered, “Sleep my love, I have you,” his arms wrapping around me.

Hours later, his voice came softly, looking for me.

“Kai?”

“Out here.” I answered from the terrace where I sat, tucked into the corner of the bench seat, cloaked in a blanket.

I could just make out his shape in the darkness as he appeared in the doorway, wearing boxers and an old t-shirt. 

He scrubbed his hand through his hair, “What are you doing?” He asked; his voice gruff with sleep.

“Thinking.”

“It’s nearly 4 o’clock.  Aren’t you freezing?”

“No, I brought a blanket.”

He came to me, placing his hand gently on top of my head and stroked my hair, “Are you ready to talk to me?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, “but please Ben; it’s nothing for you to worry about.  Go back to bed and I’ll be up soon.”

In the dim light from the streets below, I saw him smile as I looked up at him.

“I won’t be able to go back to sleep knowing you’re sitting down here, ‘thinking’.  Won’t you come back inside?”

I flipped the blanket up, goosebumps prickling my leg as the cold air hit my skin, “Why don’t you join me instead?  It’s warm under here, if you’re determined to talk now.”

I raised my knees as he sat between my legs, leaning back against me and I put my arms around him, pulling the blanket up and resting my chin on his shoulder.  He shivered as my body warmed him.

“Alright, tell me what you’ve been thinking about.”

“Are you upset that I haven’t let you tell anyone we’re engaged?”

The best I could have hoped for would have been a quick and solid denial, but that was neither what I expected nor what I got.  He didn’t say anything right away and I listened to his breathing while he thought about his answer.

“When you told me why you wanted to wait, your reasoning was as logical as ever.  You’re right that our parents - or certainly mine at any rate - will stick their noses in.  And there’s likely to be a fair amount of attention from the media and Louise is going to be sticking her nose in to try and take care of that.  So I understood when you said you’d like us to take some time and get used to the idea ourselves before the rest of the world finds out.  But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed because as far as I’m concerned, I want to tell everyone.  I want to make a grand announcement and crow about how I somehow managed to con you into agreeing to marry me.”

I chuckled and kissed his neck, “You know that my reasons for wanting to wait had nothing to do with you though, right?”

He turned to look at me, his voice teasing, “The thought never occurred to me until just now.”

“Ben, don’t joke, I mean it.  That’s partly what I’ve been driving myself crazy about; that you might think I was having doubts about actually getting married, or worse, about us.”

“And have you been?”

“Absolutely not,” I tightened my arms around him, “I’m as sure now as I was when I said yes, as sure as I’ve ever been about anything.  I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Well, that’s alright then.  I think I can wait until you’re ready.”

“But I feel guilty for making you wait, especially when I’ve already told my closest friends.”

“Out of necessity, when Leah noticed your ring.”

“Yeah, and tonight Joanna noticed it too, she was just too polite to say anything.  The thing is; people are going to notice.  They’re going to ask questions and eventually someone’s going to say something to someone else and you’re going to get a scathing phone call from Wanda because a reporter goes looking for a comment from her before you’ve told her yourself.”

“Hmm, yes, I take your point.  If she calls and wants to shout at someone, I’m giving the phone to you.”

“Stop it!  I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” He said drily.

“The reason I got so melancholy tonight was because, when I arrived at the hotel and there was a swarm of cameras, photographers screaming at me to try and get a reaction, it sort of confirmed what I had already been scared of.  I’ve been wondering if I can take a lifetime of that.  It’s not the same as being on a red carpet with you, when I’m prepared and it’s a controlled environment.  It’s scary when they’re in your face like that and I’m terrified of making you look bad.”

His hands came up to hold mine where they sat on his chest and he took a deep breath, “I don’t know exactly what to say, how to set your mind at ease about it.  All I can do is tell you not to worry about how you make me look, just be yourself.  And, that I’ll always be there for you, to protect you in any way I can.”

“I know and that’s what I was sitting out here trying to come to terms with.  I’ve been weighing the two sides against the middle – what’s bigger, my fear or our love for each other?  And when I finally realized that was the question, well honestly, it kind of seemed like a no-brainer because nothing matters more to me than you.”

He turned his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled at me, “So if you have your answer, why were you still sitting out here in the dark?”

I shrugged, “I was waffling.  I didn’t really want to admit to you that I was being a chicken shit over something that’s so stupid.  If I have no control over it, then why am I wasting energy trying to figure out how to control it?  It’s just not logical.  But mostly, I was trying to figure out how to explain myself so you wouldn’t feel like I was blaming you for something you don’t have any control over either.”

“I could always quit acting and we could move somewhere quiet and remote.  I hear the Outer Hebrides are nice.”

Laughing, I wrapped my arms even more tightly around him, “Even if you were the slightest bit serious, I’d never ask you to give up anything you love so much.  No, I’ve made up my mind, or rather, you made it up for me.”

“In my sleep?  That’s a pretty cool trick.”

“Before that,” I said, laughing; then leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I asked you to make me feel safe and you did, without even knowing what was wrong with me.  After that, how could I possibly keep making you wait for what you want?”

I took his chin in my hand and turned his face, holding his lips to mine, hoping he could feel what he meant to me.

“We have the party at Bev’s tomorrow but why don’t you see if your parents are free on Sunday?  We can drive up, take them to lunch and tell them.”

“And then I can tell everyone else?”  I could hear the excitement, the joy in his voice, “I can brag about you saying yes at the top of my lungs?”

“Yes.  You can take that bullhorn to the top of Parliament and shout it to the whole of London.”

He let his head drop back onto my shoulder, a huge smile on his face, “Jesus Kai, I’ve never been happier in my life.  I keep thinking I must have done something pretty spectacular in a previous life to have earned this, you, as my reward.”

“My being here is because of you.  Your honesty, your sweetness and your dedication to making this relationship work.  I love you because of the way you love me.”

“That’s beautiful.”

He turned his head for another kiss, humming softly and I mumbled against his lips, “It doesn’t hurt that you’re also fairly attractive and you have an enormous cock.”

He burst out laughing and said, “Jesus, you say something so lovely and then you have to go and ruin it.  I sometimes wonder if you have a romantic bone in your body.”

I stared at him, “Listen to yourself.  How can you set me up with straight lines like that and not expect me to take advantage?”

He shook his head and sat up, taking me by the hand, “Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

“And anyway,” I grinned as he led me into the flat, “I don’t have to be romantic.  Your romantic bone is more than big enough to make up for my lack of one.”

“Oh for god’s sake…” he muttered.

I turned around to close the terrace door and jumped as he smacked me on the ass.  It was worth it.

When I woke on Saturday morning, even before I opened my eyes I could feel him looking at me.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“Yes, freckles.  I’m trying to count them.”

“Why do you need to know how many freckles I have?”

“I don’t really,” he moved closer, his hand landing on my hip, “It was just an excuse to look at your face.”

“Twenty-seven.” I said, opening my eyes to look into his, bright blue-green in the morning sunshine.

Shaking his head, he scoffed, “Not even close.”

“That’s how many moles you have on your chest.” I clarified, “Would you like to know how many you have on your neck?  Or on your belly?  I don’t know how many you have on your back because you never hold still long enough when I have you face down.”

He grinned, looking extremely pleased at my admission and said, “You have a three of them high on the inside of your left thigh, in a perfect triangle.”

“Do I?” I turned onto my side, “How odd.”

“Why is it odd?”

“You do too.”

“What, really?  On my left thigh?”

“No wait, maybe it’s your right.”  I pushed him onto his back and slid down his body, “Won’t be a minute; I’m just going to check.” 

I could hear his muffled laughter through the duvet, “Isn’t it a bit dark under there, for counting moles?”

“Yes it is,” I conceded, “but I’m sure I can find something to do while I’m down here.”

“I know, perhaps you could – oh my god…” his voice trailed off with a moan and I wondered if he could feel that I was smiling.


	27. Truth and Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bright lights, shiny ring...uh oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since my last update. Sometimes life just happens and time gets away from you.  
> I hope it was worth the wait ;)

What You Put into the World

Chapter 27 – Truth and Consequences  

 

We spent the entire day in bed. 

We were going to Bev’s retirement party in the evening, where she would be letting the staff know I had bought ‘Down to Earth’.  So far only Philip, his wife Myra and Marty knew and they’d also known to keep it to themselves until all the contracts were completed.   I’d mentioned to Ben the night before that I had a whole bunch of errands to get done today and in fact, I had a list as long as my arm.

I managed to do exactly none.

We lazily explored and played, finding new ways to touch familiar places, lavishing attention on each other, completely unhurried.  We read to each other and took turns running down to the kitchen to make snacks, feeding each other, giggling about crumbs in the bed and getting completely hysterical when I tried to roll Ben over only to discover he was stuck to the sheet by a glob of raspberry jam.  We took naps and woke each other when we wanted more, unable to stop ourselves, not even trying until I noticed the light outside the windows had changed and I checked the time. 

Reluctantly, I pulled away from him, getting out of bed and as I stepped into the shower I didn’t feel the least bit guilty for putting off my chores.  I felt a little sore, ridiculously happy and almost obscenely satisfied.  

The shower door clicked open and Ben stepped in between me and the water.  I had my arms up, washing my hair and felt his hands at my waist, sliding up my soap-slicked skin to cup my breasts.  I cracked an eye open.

“Don’t even think about it.”

His eyes sparkled as he smiled widely, thumbs circling my areolas, “What makes you think I was thinking anything?”

I reached for the shampoo, putting it in his hand, “Here, I don’t want to be late.”

I ducked behind him to rinse and he turned to watch, lathering his hair while I squeezed the water from mine and added conditioner, “Freckles,” he said happily, “the whole thing started with freckles.” 

“I’m impressed at our ability to take something so innocent and turn it into something so wonderfully, cheerfully,” I searched for the right word, “carnal.”

Chuckling, he nodded in agreement, “Carnal, yes.  It was definitely that.”

I winced slightly as I washed between my legs, not surprised by how tender I was.  He was still watching me as I scrubbed my skin and I passed him the conditioner to distract him, turning around to wash the soap off.  

“Get a move on.” I ordered.

“I’m wondering…how many times today do you think we did it?”

My back to him, I grinned.  It amused me that he’d ask, that after the number of times today each of us had reduced the other to a moaning, panting, sweaty mess, his ego still needed stroking.

“I don’t know.  I lost count after my third orgasm.  It was all sort of a blur after that.  Although, I guess since technically we never really stopped,” I turned to look at him over my shoulder, “once?”

“Once.”  He repeated.

I nodded, laughing at the look on his face and stepping backwards out of the shower.  I flipped my head to wrap a towel around my hair and before I could stand up, his arms came around me from behind, lifting me off my feet and, dripping water everywhere, he spun me around so I was facing the mirror.  He pulled the towel from my hair and leaning over my back, quickly wiped the steam from the glass.  I grabbed the towel from him before he could drop it on the floor, trying to cover myself with it.

“You have got to be kidding me.” I said to his reflection.

His eyes half lidded, he smiled mischievously and shook his head, “Oh no, I’m completely serious.  Once a day isn’t enough.”

I turned in his arms, my hair streaming water down my back, “We’re already running behind.”

Trust me; I’ll be done before you know it.”

“You will not,” I scoffed, “it took you ages to come the last time.”

“Yes, but,” he kissed me, “now I’ve had some time,” another kiss, and he was trying to pull the towel out from between us, “to recover.”

Trying not to laugh, I pressed my hands to his chest, “Listen to me - we can’t.  I don’t want to be late for this party, it would be rude.”

“Unforgivably rude,” he agreed, giving up on the towel so he could grab my ass and pull me against his groin, “which is why you should just stop arguing with me.  You’re wasting valuable time.”

And now I did laugh, putting my arms around him, “I won’t pretend I’m not tempted and I’m flattered too but, for the last time, no.”

His eyebrow arched in shock, “Did you just say no to me?  You never say no.  I’m wounded.”

“You are not.”

“I am.” He clutched his chest and looked away, “I’m hurt and offended and wondering if there’s something wrong with me.  Why don’t you want me anymore?”

“Because you’re a drama queen,” I grinned, “Now quit bugging me.  I have to dry my hair or it’ll go all frizzy.”

“I’ll just go feel sorry for myself in the other room, shall I?”

“Good idea.  Go get dressed so I can have the bedroom to myself to get ready.”

“Yes, alright,” he sighed, put-upon and pitiful, “What are you wearing?  I mean, casual or..?”

“Jeans and a sweater probably.  And quit sulking; we can do whatever you like when we get home.”

His face brightened, “Oh, well that’s alright then.  Now you’d best hurry up, we’re going to be late.”

He managed to get the door shut before the towel I threw could hit him.  I quickly dried my hair, put on mascara and eyeliner and went into the bedroom to dress.  Ben was already downstairs and I was touched to see he’d laid out clothes for me on the bed; jeans, and my navy sweater.  He’d even chosen underwear and boots and next to my socks was a fresh plaster for my injured toe.  I threw my clothes on and running down the steps, adjusting the bracelet on my wrist, nearly fell over Ben, who was sitting near the bottom of the stairs.

“Jesus, I almost went arse over tea kettle.  What are you doing?”

“Have I said how happy I am that we’ve decided to start telling people we’re engaged?”

I squinted at him; something was…not right.

“Yes you have.  Why?”

“My phone was off all day.”

“And?”

He had his mobile in his hand and he didn’t say another word, he just touched the screen and watched my face while the voicemails played, one after the other.

 _“Ben, it’s Mum.  Call me.”_  It sounded urgent, but not disastrous.

 _“Benedict, call me back.”_ Now she sounded annoyed.

_“Where are you?  I’m going to try Kai.”_

By the third message she was obviously frustrated, but it didn’t begin to compare with her tone in the last one.

_“This is ridiculous.  What good is a mobile if you’re not going to have it with you?  Phone me when you get this.  I’ve had a bunch of calls asking how I feel about you being engaged and I don’t bloody know how I feel, do I?  Because I don’t bloody know anything about it!”_

“Who the fuck is calling her?” My heart was pounding, “We haven’t told anyone yet.”

“She means the press.  She rang three more times and didn’t leave messages.  Louise has also sent multiple texts and left messages and was practically screaming by the last one.  My mailbox is full.”

I sank down next to him, putting my arm around his waist, my mind going a million miles an hour.

“How did they find out?”

“Paps at the hotel last night; apparently, your ring catches the camera flashes very nicely and it’s all over the tabloids.  Louise has been fielding calls all day.  I’m so, so sorry, this isn’t how I wanted people to find out.”

He was gutted.  It was in his voice, written on his face and it was painful to see.

“Ben, it’s not your fault.  As soon as I put the ring on my finger, the clock was ticking.  At least we had a chance to talk about it last night and we were going to start telling people anyway.”

“Still…”

“Never mind ‘still’.  There’s nothing for you to be sorry for because I certainly don’t blame you.  But you better phone Wanda and let her know we haven’t dropped off the face of the earth and I’ll call Bev and let her know we’re going to be late after all.”  Something else occurred to me, “Oh god, I have to call my parents.” I was doing the math in my head, figuring out what time it was where they were.

I gave him a peck on the forehead and he exhaled forcefully, dialling his Mum while I got up to find my phone.  My purse was still on the counter where I’d left it last night and I dug my mobile out and turned it on.  I’d never had so many messages.  Thumbing through, I could see dozens of texts and calls, two from my brother, Wanda’s, several each from Leah and Jem and one from my parent’s number.  First I called Bev, explaining that we had a little emergency to take care of and that we’d get to her place as soon as we could, then I listened to my voicemails.  My brother Finn had seen the story on the wire while he was at work at the newspaper and tried to reach me before calling my parents to see if they knew.  Leah of course had heard first thing this morning, through the Google alert she had for my name, and she’d called Jem when she couldn’t connect with me so I sent them each a text, telling them I was on it and I’d talk to them tomorrow.  I could hear Ben in the background, the cadence of his voice soft, soothing, trying to calm Wanda down as I listened to the message from my Mother.

_“I just got off the phone with Finn.  Apparently you’re getting married?  Why am I not hearing this from you?  Call me back.”_

Ugh, she sounded seriously annoyed.  I dialed, heard a single ring and she didn’t even say hello.

“Well?”

“Mum, I was going to call you.”

“So it’s true?”

“Yes.  He asked me last week but I wanted to wait before we told everyone and then last night, I guess there are pictures of my ring?” I babbled, “I don’t know, I haven’t seen the papers.”

“I have, I went online after I talked to Finn.  I can’t begin tell you how bizarre it is to see your picture in the newspaper and my god, the British tabloids are just ghastly, aren’t they?  And they all say exactly the same thing, ‘speculation of engagement, whirlwind romance, awaiting confirmation from his representatives’ over and over.”

I fell heavily onto the sofa, “Yeah, Ben’s Mum and his publicist have left a bunch of messages for him, but we only found out now.”

“It’s barely ten o’clock here; how is it possible that I heard before you did?  Where were you?”

“Um,” I laughingly admitted, “we spent the day in bed.”

There was a moment of silence before she cracked up, “Alright, I think I’ve settled down, tell me what happened.  I never expected to get this phone call from you.”

I told her how he proposed, surprising us both by getting choked up in the process.  When she carefully brought up that we hadn’t known each other very long, I assured her that we’d talked about it and we didn’t care that it had only been a few months; we were sure how right we were for each other.  Part way through the telling, Ben came up behind me, his hands gently massaging my shoulders.

“Well, I did encourage you not to overthink things.  I guess this is what happens when you take my advice.”

“That’s part of it Mum, following my instincts and being absolutely sure that I want to be with him for the rest of our lives.  I know how you and Dad feel about marriage, but I also know how much it means to Ben and anything that’s this important to him is also important to me.”

Her voice came through the phone, dry and matter-of-fact, “Uh-huh.  Look Kai, we raised you to think for yourself, not to blindly follow in our footsteps or anyone else’s and I’m not about to start telling you how to think now.  But I’m your Mother, so I’m allowed to ask, are you doing this to make him happy or is this something you actually want?”

Smiling, I remembered Ben once asking me the same question, about something quite different and I answered, “Mum, Ben would never pressure me to do anything I didn’t want to just to make him happy.”  His hands tightened on my shoulders – was he agreeing with me or was he remembering too? “I know it’s hard for you because you haven’t met him, you haven’t seen us together but trust me when I tell you he’s the only one who could have made me change my mind.  I can’t explain it any better than that but I’ve never been as sure of anything as I am of him.”

Ben kissed the top of my head and I reached up to hold his hand, waiting to hear what she’d say next.  I heard my Dad’s voice, quiet in the background, and realized he’d been listening as well, picturing the two of them standing there with their heads together, sharing the phone.

“Oh, well here’s a shock,” Mum said, “Your Dad supports you one hundred percent, whatever you decide.  Honestly, the two of you, seven thousand kilometres apart and still thick as thieves.  I agree with him as it happens, because we did a good job with you and I trust your judgement.”

“Thanks Mum, I love you guys.”

“We love you too kiddo.  So, when’s the wedding?”

“Oh god Mum I don’t know, we haven’t even had a chance to discuss a date.”

The next thing I heard was Ben’s voice, “Christmas,” softly but with complete conviction and I would have sworn that my heart stopped.

I let my head fall back so I could see his face, “What did you say?”

“Christmas,” and he smiled goofily.

Holding his gaze, I said into the phone, “Mum, I’ll let you know, but I have to run now, we have somewhere to be.”

We said goodbye and hung up as Ben came around the sofa to sit next to me, folding my hand between his and talking fast, “I know it’s quick but I’m sure we can pull it off and I think it just makes sense since I’ve got a few days off over the holidays and your family will already be here.”

“You have a hell of a gift for testing my convictions Cumberbatch.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve just finished telling my Mum that time isn’t important to us and then you’re telling me you think we should get married in two months?  Jesus.”

“If it’s too fast for you, then say so.  You’ve already said you’ll marry me so I can wait as long as I have to.”

“You don’t actually mean Christmas day, do you?” I asked, thinking it would be a logistical nightmare trying to get everyone together during the holidays.

“Hmm, no, perhaps not; people will want to be with their families,” he said, echoing my thoughts, “and hiring caterers and a venue would be next to impossible.  But my play ends on the 30th and I don’t leave for Prague until the middle of January.  We could do it any time in those two weeks.  The other thing I’m thinking is that, while I’m doing the play, I’m around and we’ll have time to plan things together.  Once I’m filming again and out of the country, well…you’d be doing most of it on your own and I don’t think that’s right.”

I thought about it and I couldn’t come up with any reason not to.

“O.K.”

His eyes creased with happy lines, “Really?”

I leaned over, taking his face in my hands and I kissed him, hard.

“Yes really.  I love you; I want nothing more than to be with you.  Why wait?”

“Why indeed?  That’s settled then.  Mum and Dad are free for lunch tomorrow so we can talk about it on the drive up and see if we can make some decisions.”

“Sounds good to me.  Will you go start the car?  I’m just going to get a paper bag to hyperventilate into and we can get going.”

He stood, pulling me up with him and hugging me close, “There’s nothing to panic over.  As a wise woman once told me, if we have each other, the rest is just details.”

“You’re pretty lucky to have such smart friends.” I said, looking up into his happy face.

Ben still had to talk to Louise.  To save time and so that he could concentrate, I volunteered to drive to Bev and Gary’s while he made his call from the car.  I headed north, skirting the Heath and he put Louise on speaker so I could hear both sides of their conversation.  At first, she was furious with him, pissed off that he’d left her completely unprepared for the onslaught of inquiries that she’d had to deal with.  Ben apologized for not warning her but explained that his proposing was not only unplanned, but also how we’d wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while and she began to cool off and ask questions, particularly, what he wanted her to say in his official statement.  He hesitated and finally admitted he wasn’t sure. 

That’s when I spoke up, “Why do we have to say anything at all?” 

He turned to look at me as Louise, realizing I’d been listening, said hello and then asked me if I was joking.

“No, I’m not.  I don’t understand, why does there have to be a statement?  I’m not being facetious; I’m genuinely asking you to please explain it to me.  It’s not like he’s royalty or something.”

Ben snorted with laughter as Louise sputtered, “The questions will just keep coming if we don’t issue a press release.  The number of calls I had today was astronomical and the office is going to be completely swamped with this for the next couple of days.”

I flipped the turn signal on and navigated a corner, “O.K. but, forgive me Louise, isn’t that what your team is there for?”

“It is, and we’ll handle it but my point is that without an official release, two things are going to happen.  First, if you thought the attention was invasive when you first started seeing Ben, I hate to say it, but you haven’t seen anything yet.  If we don’t give them something to work with Kai, you aren’t going to have a moment’s peace whenever you’re out together.  Second, the tabloids will just make up their own stories, quoting anonymous sources and pestering everyone with even the most distant connection to either of you, including your families.”

I still didn’t like it, but I could see her point, “Alright, I guess that makes sense.  I suppose I’m being naive.”

“Well, you don’t have much experience with this sort of thing, and why would you?  Anyway, it’s better that you’re asking questions than feeling like you’re being abandoned while all my attention goes on Ben.  Make sure you have my number because you shouldn’t try to handle anything to do with the press by yourself.”

I just listened after that, letting her and Ben figure out what the statement should say and she told him she’d check with him for final approval before issuing anything.  He hung up and we were quiet for a while before he asked if I was alright.

“I think so.” I sighed, “This is the part I still have trouble with, you know?  The part where there are always eyes on you and I get annoyed about having to share our life with people we don’t even know, about having to even consider how the decisions you and I make could affect our families or friends.  I’m trying to be grown up about this Ben, but it’s hard.”

His hand came up to squeeze my shoulder, “I know it is but, I promise you, it does get easier.”

“Does it?” I asked, suddenly and irrationally annoyed with him, as though our situation was somehow his fault, “Does it actually get easier, or over time will I just get used to giving a part of myself away?”

I heard him take a quick breath; surprised either by what I’d said or by how sharply I’d said it.  I yanked the steering wheel hard, pulling into a free space down the block from Bev’s house and cut the engine.

“I had no idea that’s how it felt to you.”

Hearing the hurt in his voice, I couldn’t look at him but I reached for his hand, sorry for upsetting him but determined to make my point.

“It’s not being seen with you, photographed when we’re out in public or any of that.  It’s only when I feel like I’m being forced to share something that should only be for us and the people closest to us that it becomes an issue.  Sharing your public persona, red carpets and events - I’m fine with doing that because I want to be there to support you.  It is part of your job and it’s not every day and I think that part will get easier with time, the more often we do it.  But I feel like our private life should be just that.”

“Yes, it should,” his thumb circled repetitively across the back of my hand, “and since my career started to take off, I’ve been trying to strike a balance between private and public but it’s so difficult.  It’s like when I did that interview just before your birthday; I don’t mean to talk about my personal life but when I’m happy, I can’t help it.  I want to be able to talk about you, about what you mean to me so…I get talking and it’s like I forget that I’m not telling a friend about the incredible woman I’ve fallen in love with.  I go into interviews with the best of intentions, to talk about the work and my co-stars and then the next thing I know, I’m gushing about you because you’re always on my mind, you’re always right there, under the surface and I want to tell people how important you are to me and how much better life is since I met you.”  He tightened his grip on my hand, “I know you don’t like it but I can’t help myself.”

I finally looked at him, shaking my head, “I can’t get angry at you for that.  One of the things I love best about you is your enthusiasm, the way you go off half-cocked when you’re excited about something and how you’re like a little kid, blurting things out without thinking them through.  I love your complete inability to shut up about what you’re passionate about, even when one of those things is me.”

Smiling, he asked, “So, what do we do?”

“I’m not sure.” And I really wasn’t. “For now, you keep being you because I don’t want you to change and I’ll keep being me because I don’t know what I’d change and other than that,” I shrugged, “I guess we do what Louise tells us to.”

“And you can live with that?” he asked seriously.

“What choice do I have?  I want to be with you and this is your life.  It’s not as though it’s all terrible; it does have some perks.”

I smiled so he’d know we were fine and he raised my hand to his lips before reaching into the back seat for the bottle of wine we’d brought for Bev and Gary.  I took a breath, long and slow and got out of the car.  He passed me the bottle, draping his arm around my shoulders as we walked toward the house.  I hadn’t exactly shaken it off, the frustration I felt at the situation, the sense of our lives not being quite our own but the reality was, there was nothing to be done about it, especially right now.   I needed more time to think it through before I was sure how I felt.  I bumped my hip against him and gave him a squeeze around the waist, thinking it would come across as light hearted but it stopped him in his tracks.

Puzzled, I turned to look at him, “What?”

“Kai, you have to stop doing that.”

The frown on his face set me back on my heels.

“Doing what?”

“Treating me with kid gloves.  For Christ’s sake, you take the mickey all the time and if anyone tries to give me special treatment you cheerfully keep me humble.  But lately, when we’ve got something serious going on, you’ve started to shut me out and pretend you’re fine until you’ve got your arguments sorted and you’re ready to talk about it.  You give me a reassuring little hug and it feels like you’re patting me on the head, humouring me until you’re ready to treat me like an adult.  If you’re angry, if you’re sad or frustrated about something, don’t make me guess, fucking tell me.  Don’t pretend with me, it’s disrespectful and worse, it’s dishonest.”

I was gobsmacked.  I stared at the ground, marshalling my thoughts and preparing to fight back but I stopped, because he was right.  I had no idea when it had started, but that’s exactly what I’d been doing.  I’d done it several times while we were taking our two week break and it was exactly what I’d done after dinner on Friday night when I’d sat out on the terrace by myself.  I wondered why I was suddenly hiding from him and acting like I was O.K. when I wasn’t.

“Ben, I’m so sorry.  I never meant to be dishonest, but I think, maybe, I was trying to protect you?” 

“Well, don’t.  For the love of god, if you aren’t happy I, of all people, deserve to know.  You’ve always said we had to be honest with each other and made me talk to you and never let me get away with anything; don’t you dare shut down on me now.”

We were right in front of Bev’s house and could hear voices and laughter from inside.  I knew we were probably the last to arrive but standing on the pavement with the wind blowing wet leaves around our feet, I knew how important it was to be truthful with him and that this couldn’t wait.  I dug deep, steeled myself and spilled my guts.

“I don’t want Louise to put out a statement.  I don’t care about all of her sensible reasons and logical explanations and dire warnings.  I don’t give a flying fuck.  It’s nobody’s business but ours and I think addressing it is a terrible idea because no matter how much you give the press, it’ll never be enough.  What I want is for you to tell her not to say anything.  What I want is for us to behave like normal people and get married and just live our lives. There are some things I don’t think we should have to share with the world.  If we get our picture taken or you accidentally say too much in an interview, well, fine, we’ll deal with that if and when it happens but this whole idea of telegraphing our every move through your team makes me feel sick.” My chin was wobbling and I could barely see him through the tears, “I know what I’ve said all along and even two minutes ago, about the good more than making up for the bad in our relationship but as far as this is concerned?  No, I don’t think I can live that way.” I stared into his eyes, my heart in my throat, “I don’t want to.” 

He reached into his pocket for his phone and dialed. 

“Louise?  I’ve changed my mind,” he said without preamble, “We’re not going to do a statement.”  He listened for a moment, “I know.  It’s not just her, it’s both of us.  No, I’m going to see my parents tomorrow, but I’ll come down to the office on Monday and we can talk then.  Yeah.  Yeah, I know you are.  Yup, see you then.”

He hung up; putting his phone away and I threw my arms around him, pressing my face to his chest.  His arms went around me and he held me close.

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“What’s so hard to believe?  I’ve gotten used to letting Louise decide what was important for people to know but that’s because I only had myself to consider.  That’s changed, it’s not me anymore; it’s us.  But Kai,” his voice went all soft and sweet with his special brand of gentle sarcasm, “it really would make my life so much easier if you’d just tell me what you’re thinking.  You always tell me when I do things you like.  If you keep the things that you don’t from me, how the fuck am I supposed to do anything about them?  It’s upsetting when I can tell something’s not right with you but I have no idea what it is.  I can read your face, not your mind.”

I looked up, staring into his eyes, “Are you sure about that?”

“Wait, I’m getting something…you want me to…kiss you?”

“Amazing.  You’re practically Kreskin.”

He took my face in his hands and we stood in front of the house, kissing in the darkness.  Pulling back, he rested his forehead on mine, “I can’t believe I just had to remind you about the importance of honesty.”

“No, I can’t either and I promise you, it’ll never happen again.  I think…since technically I wasn’t actually telling a lie, I’d convinced myself I wasn’t doing anything wrong but it isn’t fair of me to let you think I’m fine one day and then ambush you the next with my completely thought-out argument and expect you to have answers for me.”

“Kai,” he said with the driest of tones, “telling me everything is hunky-dory when it isn’t is lying.” 

“Obfuscating.” I suggested.

“Lying.”

“Muddying the waters.”

“It’s not telling the truth, so by definition, it’s lying.”

“It sure is cold out here.  We should probably go in.”

Laughing as he realized I wasn’t going to admit a damn thing, he opened the front gate and we went up the stairs to ring the doorbell.  Bev answered the door and with her usual cheerful brashness commented on our late arrival.

“Finally!  I think some of the girls were starting to think you’d never show up.  Oh, and you’ve brought Kai, how nice.”

She winked at Ben and I giggled.  I introduced them and they shook hands before Bev took our coats to hang from pegs on the wall.  I apologized for not being on time but she shrugged it off.

“You’re here now, so not to worry.  You mentioned an emergency…everything alright?”

“It is now.” I answered as Gary came through the door from the sitting room, “Ben, this is Bev’s husband, Gary.”

As Ben extended his hand, Gary’s eyes twinkled, “I don’t suppose you’ll remember, but we have met before.”

Ben scanned his face before slowly shaking his head, “No, I’m awfully sorry, I don’t recall.”

“I’m not surprised.  It was at a cast party and I think you were all of thirteen or fourteen years old.  My brother Sid used to run a theatre company and your father was in a play of his.  Sid Klein?  The play was called…”

“Yes! ’A Bird in the Hand’,” Ben exclaimed, “I do remember that, and your brother.  How is he?”

“Retired and living in Spain.  He’s the reason we’ve decided to sell everything here and move.  He’ll be chuffed to hear you remember him.”

“He was the most charming man and patient as a saint with me and my endless questions.  Give him my best won’t you?”

“I absolutely will.” Gary answered, beginning to steer him down the hallway, “Now, come get a drink and we’ll see if Beverly can get her speech out of the way before she has too much wine.”

Bev smiled at his back as the two of them walked away and quietly said, “So, I understand congratulations are in order?”

Startled, I looked at her and she said, “They were talking about it on the radio this morning.  May I see the ring?”

I held my hand up and she looked closely, taking my hand and turning it from side to side so the stone caught the light.

“It’s beautiful and he chose well; it suits you.  Now, before we go in there,” she indicated the sitting room where the rest of the guests were, “I wanted to take a moment to tell you how glad I am that everything’s worked out for you.  I felt absolutely awful when I let you go and I’ll always be grateful for the way you stepped up to help after my accident.”

“I’m not a big believer in fate Bev and the expression ‘everything happens for a reason’ has always struck me as more of an excuse than anything else but if you hadn’t fired me things might have turned out very differently for Ben and me.  Being unemployed was stressful but not working also left me with a lot of free time, time we spent getting to know each other.  Seeing how someone behaves when things are going wrong, how they treat you when you’re scared and under pressure,” I shrugged, “I think that tells you a great deal about the sort of person they are.”

“I suppose you have me to thank for all of this then?” she laughed.

“You also hired me and got me my first visa so I could move here to begin with and my whole life changed because of it, so yeah, I owe you more than I can say.”

She looked a little choked up and hastily cleared her throat, “Bollocks.  If it hadn’t been me, you’d have found another way.  You’re nothing if not determined.  Now, let’s get in there before Gary sends out a search party.”

Most of the staff had brought their partner or a friend but still, seeing the number of people in the sitting room was a bit of a shock.  Because of the way the business worked, the employees were rarely all together at the same time and I sometimes forgot how many of them there were.  Ben appeared at my side offering a glass of red wine and wrapped his arm around my waist, staying with me when I began to make the rounds to say hello and meet husbands and wives. 

This was an unusual situation for us.  Any parties we’d been to together prior to this had either been with friends, people we knew and trusted or were work functions of Ben’s where his celebrity was a given, not something that made him stand out in the room and this was nothing like either of those.  But here, most people took meeting Ben in stride, or if they didn’t, they made a valiant effort to pretend.  He was warm and friendly with everyone and I was proud of him, of how easy he made it for the few who were a bit star struck, including Alicia, whose reaction I’d been, if not dreading then at least concerned about. 

We met her over by the table where the food had been laid out.  As we approached, the friend she was with saw us and poked her in the arm to get her attention.  As I picked up a plate, I said hello.

“Oh!  Um, hi.” She said, her voice much higher than normal.

“Ben, this is Alicia and..?”

I was pretty sure she’d forgotten her friend’s name as she stammered a greeting, so I looked at the friend myself, prompting her.

“Kathleen, I’m her flatmate.” She said.

“Nice to meet you both.  Alicia, you work with Kai?” Ben asked.

I watched as her face gradually reddened, looking from him to me and back again, clearly wondering if he knew it was her that had talked to the reporter about me back when Ben and I had first met.

“Alicia and I worked on a ton of projects together.  We were a good team before I ended up in the office all the time.” I said.

She got control of her nerves and told me she’d been speaking with Myra earlier, “Now that she’s been hired, will you be taking your old clients back?”

“Some of them,” I nodded, “but Myra’s only part time for now.  Hopefully by the spring, I’ll be able to get out of the office entirely.”

Ben took my empty glass and his and wandered over to refill them.  I stayed, talking with Alicia and Kathleen until we were interrupted by Gary calling for everyone’s attention, “Beverly would like to say a few words.  She’s promised to keep it brief so don’t panic, the bar will re-open shortly.”

Bev stood near the fireplace, looking around the room at the assembled staff and their families and I could see, even before she said a word that she was emotional, her eyes a little too bright and shiny.  She began by thanking us all for coming and saying what an honour it was to have such a talented and dedicated group of people working for her. 

“I wanted to throw you a party to show my appreciation for all your hard work over the years and especially for the way you all came together after my car accident.  But, my accident was also a wake-up call, a reminder of how quickly life can change and I’ve decided that the time is right for me to make the most of my good fortune, so, I won’t be coming back.”  The room went very quiet, people wondering what this meant for the business and she didn’t keep them waiting, “I’m officially retired, as of now but I hope you’ll all be as pleased as I am that I’ve sold ‘Down to Earth’ to one of you.  Kai, could you come up here please?”

As I moved toward her, I caught Marty’s eye and he grinned and began to clap, his applause quickly picked up by the rest of the room and when it died down, Bev took a shaky breath and went on.

“I poured my heart and soul into this business for almost 30 years so when it came time to sell it, I didn’t choose my successor lightly.  I believe I chose the right person to carry on my legacy, to make it grow and to keep you all happily employed and well paid for years to come.” She raised her glass in a toast, “Here’s to you all and to Kai with my deepest thanks.  And now I’m going to sit down before I really do cry.”

I hugged her, whispering ‘Thank you’ in her ear and stepped away as she was mobbed by the rest of the group, some of whom had been with her for a very long time.  I made my way to the front door, put my coat on and slipped out to the front porch.  I was lighting a cigarette when the door opened and Ben poked his head out.

“I thought so.” He said, coming outside, “Feeling a little overwhelmed?”

“I needed a minute.  It’s been an emotional day.”

He leaned on the railing, facing me and I passed him my cigarette.  He took a drag and said, “I’m really glad I came tonight.  Other than our terrace and David and Elise’s garden, I don’t know much about your work.  I’ve very much enjoyed hearing what your co-workers think of you.  It’s five star reviews across the board.”

I snorted, “Like they’d tell you if it wasn’t.”

“Perhaps not, but even when they weren’t telling me directly, I overheard enough to know it’s true.  And Philip and Martin in particular; they trapped me by the bar and talked my ear off about you for 15 minutes straight.”

I laughed, “I’m pleased to hear it.  Those two are the back bone of the company and if they weren’t on my side I’d be much more worried than I am.”

“Worried? About what?”

“Throughout the whole process of buying the business, all I’ve thought about is what it means for me, for us.  All of our negotiations about the money and trying to figure out whether this was really what I wanted to do with my life and if buying it would mean I could stay here and be with you.  Listening to Bev’s speech and looking at that room full of people, tonight was the first time I thought about what it means to them too.  If I fuck up, it’s not just me that’s affected.  I’m responsible for all of them as well.”

Ben passed the cigarette back to me and said, “Yes, you are.  But you heard what Bev said, she chose you.  She could have gone through an agency and sold to anyone who had the money but she didn’t.  She put her company and the people employed by it in the best hands she could imagine because she knew you’d take care of it and them.  You respect what she built, you know what it takes not only to run it but run it well and you’d best remember that because there’s no going back now.”

He spoke with such conviction and I drew confidence from how much he believed in me and I was glad he’d followed me outside.  I dropped the cigarette in a tin can on the porch and looked at Ben.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me Cumberbatch.”

He pushed off from the railing and I stepped into his arms, bursting out laughing as he muttered, “Besides, you’d better not fuck this up.  I want my investment back.”

We went back inside and Gary caught up to us with a couple of glasses of champagne.  Ben declined because he was driving and promptly headed for the desserts while I stayed and talked with Gary about the property in Spain they’d been looking at.

“You two should come for a visit once we’re settled.  I’m thinking about buying a little sailboat and we could go snorkeling and catch fish for our supper.  Besides, the house is in great shape but the gardens are a disaster and I’m sure Beverly would love a second opinion.”

“Gary, are you inviting me for a holiday or just looking for free labour?”

“Who says the two are mutually exclusive?” He chuckled.

I mingled and chatted for a while until Ben caught me stifling a yawn and made his way over to me, asking if I wanted to get going.

“You wouldn’t think spending all day in bed would be so tiring.” I teased and went to say good bye to Bev and Gary.

I’d hoped to make a quick getaway but it wasn’t to be.  As soon as Gary heard we were leaving, he tried to argue against it, calling out for reinforcements to get us to stay and pretty soon, I was having to make the rounds again, saying goodnight to everyone individually instead of sneaking out.  On the bright side, I finally got a chance to have a quiet word with Myra.

“I won’t be in until around lunchtime on Monday but call my mobile if you need anything.  And Myra, I hate to put you in this position but unfortunately, it can’t be helped,” she frowned and I continued, “you’re going to have to be extra vigilant with the phones for the next little while and maybe even with walk-in customers.”

She picked up immediately on what I meant, “Because of the newspapers?  You think they’ll call the office?”

“I don’t know for sure; they might.  I won’t hold you responsible for anything, so don’t worry about that but if anything strikes you as odd, someone asking questions about me instead of the business or something?  Just take a message and tell them I’ll call them back.”

“Of course, I can absolutely do that.  And don’t worry; I have teenagers so my bullshit radar is second to none.”

Laughing, I said I’d see her Monday and found Ben, waiting for me at the door.  He helped me on with my coat and we went home.

I was brushing my teeth when I heard him come upstairs.  When I went into the bedroom, I didn’t see him but the light was on in the closet.  Picking my jacket up off the bed I went to hang it up.  He turned to face me, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Come over here my love.”

I felt the first whisper of arousal at the sound of his voice.  I went to him and he took the jacket from me, dropping it on the chair next to the mirror and taking my hands to wind my arms around his neck.  His lips brushed lightly back and forth across my mouth, our eyes open so I saw his pupils widen when I sucked on his bottom lip.  His hands went to the hem of my sweater and he pulled it over my head.  Threading my fingers into the curls at his neck, I raised myself onto my toes, pressing myself to his body, exhaling at the heat of our skin where our bellies touched while he caressed my back, eventually unhooking my bra.  It fell to the floor and his hands went between us, opening my jeans.  He dropped to his knees as he pulled them down so I could step out of them then he grasped my hips while he kissed and nuzzled my belly.  He raised his head.

“You said we could do whatever I wanted to when we got home.” 

I smiled, stroking his hair, “I did, didn’t I?”

“Are you still sore?”

“A little bit.” I admitted.

“In that case what I want,” his fingers tickled down the backs of my thighs, “is to kiss you, to touch and lick and suck every sensitive spot on your body until you’re so wet you can’t keep your legs together.”

My mouth fell open; I loved that this far into our relationship, he still had the ability to shock me.

“Jesus Ben.” I managed to say.

His eyebrows went up and with a cheeky grin he asked, “Think that might work for you?”

“God yes.” I said.

He rose to his feet and claimed my mouth, his kiss as tender as his hands on my body and such a strange and provocative contrast to his words.

He scooped me up, carrying me to the bedroom.  He quickly undressed, getting into bed with me and we lay facing each other.

“I hate to ruin the mood,” I said, stretching, “but I’m feeling incredibly lazy.  It may have been a mistake to put me on the bed; you probably should have kept me upright.”

His eyes twinkled as he leaned closer, rubbing his nose against mine and said, “How about you just lie there and let me do all the work?”

I giggled, “That’s perfect.  It’ll be like we’re already married.”

Laughing, he rolled me onto my back, pushing my legs apart with his knee, rubbing his calf on mine, “Unfortunately, you’ve already set too high a standard.  You’ll never be allowed to get away with any of that ‘I’ve a headache’ nonsense with me.”

“I can’t imagine ever feeling that way.” I put an arm around him and pulling him close, I took his hand, guiding it between my legs.

He shifted to one side and his hand slid between my thighs.  Our lips together, he hummed against my mouth as he pressed a finger to me and it slipped easily into my crease.  Stroking softly, he lifted his head to look at me.

“Why does it seem like you’re always ready for me?”

“What a silly question.”  My voice came out low and husky, “Everything about you, the way you taste, the smell of your skin, your voice when you tell me you love me…even when I’m tired and lazy and a little bit sore, to me, you’re the most seductive man in the world.  For you Ben, I am always ready.”

With a soft groan he slid down my body, his lips locking onto a nipple, sucking until it was hard against his tongue.  Moving to the other side, he did it again, the slow pull of his mouth and the constant motion of his finger against my clitoris making me sigh with pleasure.  Opening my eyes, I saw his lips curve into a smile and he raised his head, watching my face as he dragged his teeth lightly along the stiff, glistening peak.   

“Suck them Ben, I love the way your mouth feels.”

I sank my fingers into his hair and pulled his head down.  Both his hands slid up my ribcage and his nails scraped lightly, teasing the sensitive undersides of my breasts until I arched, holding him to me.  He reached up, untangling my fingers from his hair and raising my arms above my head, he held my wrists with one big hand while the other cupped and squeezed my boobs and he alternated between sucking my nipples and grazing and pinching them with his fingers.  I could feel him, hard against my mound as I curved my back, needing contact.

I struggled against his strength, trying to pull my hands free and he grinned, gripping harder.

“What are you doing?”

“Let go, I need to touch you.”

He chuckled, more than confident; cocky.  In any other situation it would have made me laugh but when he was like this during sex, it just did a number on me.  I wrapped my legs around him, raising my hips off the bed.

“Let go of my hands Ben, please?”

“The magic word.” 

He released me and I dragged his face to me, pushing my tongue into his mouth and slid my hands down his back.  I squeezed his ass, grinding on him, eliciting a deep moan that seemed to come all the way from his belly.  When his hard length went between my lower lips and dragged over my clit, I gasped, pulling him tighter to me.  He kissed down my cheek to my throat, licking, biting at my neck and collarbone and thrusting against me.  I was getting close, my breathing fast and my fingernails digging into his bum as I showed him what I wanted.

“Are you going to come?” His voice rasped in my ear.

“Yes, don’t stop Ben, I just need…”

“I know what you need.” He growled and shoved his arms between my legs and his body, raising my knees, spreading me wide and driving his shaft against me.

I shrieked, my whole body going rigid under him as the orgasm hit me like stars rocketing through my veins.  I collapsed, panting and shuddering and finally, opened my eyes.

“Ooh, that was intense.”

“I could watch you for a thousand years and never tire of seeing that.”

I laughed breathlessly, “Red faced and sweating, looking like I’m silently screaming?”

“Jesus no,” he said, brushing my hair away from my face, “it’s just you, stripped down, raw and completely in the moment.  You’re so fucking beautiful you take my breath away.”

“I love you.”

We kissed, slow and soft and I said, “Why don’t you roll over so I can watch your face this time?”

He shook his head, eyes sparkling, “Love of my life, if you think I’m done with you, you’re very much mistaken.”

He lifted himself off me and patted me on the hip, “Turn over, onto your belly.  I rather enjoyed all that friction myself and I want to try something.”

I turned to look at him over my shoulder, “Hmm, titillating.”

“You have no idea.” He grinned and reached for a pillow, “Lift your bum.”

I did as he said and he wiggled the pillow under my hips, adjusting until I was positioned the way he wanted me.

“Comfortable?”

“I don’t know; I’m too turned on to care.”

He ran his hand over my ass and leaned on me, his tongue running up my spine.  I shivered and he nipped my earlobe before whispering, “Where’s your vibrator?”

He knew I was sore and I almost said something but I knew it didn’t matter.  I’d let him do anything.

“In my nightstand.”

“Lube too?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He climbed over me and I heard the drawer open then he was back, pushing my legs apart and kneeling behind me. 

“Do you remember the night I stayed at your place, when we didn’t have any condoms?”

“Yes.”

I heard the click of the lube cap then his hands rubbing together. 

“You were so hot and slippery and when you held my cock in your hand, rubbing me against yourself… I have no idea how I held on as long as I did.”

His voice, his words; I felt a tremor of excitement and closed my eyes, giving myself over to the sensation of his warm hands slicking over my skin as he spread lube all over my buttocks and the tops of my thighs.  His hands left me to squeeze out more lube and his breath caught as he stroked himself with one hand and me with the other.  He maintained slow, steady pressure until I started moving into his hand then he lay on top of me, and with a deep sigh, pressed down and started pumping his stiff length between my ass cheeks.

“Oh Kai…”

He slid his hands under me, palming my breasts and he moaned as I twisted my hips over and over again, our bodies welded together from his mouth on my neck to our toes curling in the sheets.  His cock slid easily on my skin and with every forward thrust his balls slapped against my pussy, a cruel tease, not nearly enough when I was becoming desperate for more pressure.  His pace gradually slowed, stopped and he rose to his knees. 

“Raise your bum.”

I did and he eased my vibrator along my pussy, wedging it between my body and the pillow under my hips.

“There?” he asked, sliding the toy back and forth until it made contact with my clit.

“Jesus, yes, right there.”

He pushed it forward slightly and when he turned it on, I squeaked, nearly jumping out of my skin.  His breath huffed as he chuckled.  He moved his legs outside mine, pressing my thighs together and with both hands, he squeezed my cheeks around his shaft and began to move with long strokes, his hips driving me down onto the vibrator until the combination of friction and vibration had me shaking.

“Kai, I’m going to come.”

“Not yet. I want you inside me.”

He pushed between my thighs; I felt the head of his cock nudging me, slipping easily into my wetness and he sank his full length with the first thrust.  I gripped him tightly, grunting as he fell onto me, his hand twisting into my hair as he began to move more quickly.

His lips were on my throat and he sighed, “You’re so soft and, oh my god…I can feel it from inside you, you’re throbbing.”

He groaned but I came first, bearing down hard on the vibrator, squeezing around his cock and with a strangled shout he followed, buried deep. 

“Ben, can you…it’s too much.” 

I squirmed, halfway between moaning and laughter, trying to move off the toy, too sensitive now for the intensity of the vibration.  He reached down to turn it off and we rolled onto our sides.  Putting his arms around me and holding tightly, he continued lazily stroking his cock into me, nuzzling my neck.

“I want to fall asleep still inside you.”

I rocked back into his hips, “Soon?” I asked, “Because if you keep moving like that, neither of us is going to get any sleep.”

He raised his head, looking at the clock on my nightstand and he grinned down at me.

“It’s barely midnight.  I’m game if you are.”

I slid off him, moving him onto his back and climbing on top.

“I’m not even going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

With a wicked gleam in his eye he said, “If we keep having to come up with excuses for you showing up incapacitated, my parents are going to think you’re the most accident prone person in the world.”

Leaning over him, planting my hands on either side of his head, I said, “If you mention your parents again it really won’t be an issue for me.  And given what I’m about to do to you?  I don’t think you’ll want them in your head either.”

I smiled in triumph as his cheeks flushed pink.


	28. In Sickness and in Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to face Wanda and Kai has to face facts, she's not bullet proof after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'd promised this chapter was coming sooner - sorry about the wait. Sometimes, life kicks you where it hurts and you have to take a little time for yourself.  
> That said, one of the great things about writing is that it's a wonderful escape from reality.  
> Enjoy the next chapter in the (seemingly) never-ending saga of Kai and Ben :)

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 28 – In Sickness and in Health 

 

I woke to laughter, tried to open my eyes and couldn’t.  Somehow, in my sleep I’d managed to get my hair wrapped completely around my head like mummy bandages.

“What’s so damned funny?” I groused, untangling myself.

“You look like Cousin Itt.” He chuckled.

Running my eyes over him and noting his bed-head, I smirked, “You’re not exactly photo-ready yourself, mister.”

“Nothing a quick shower can’t fix,” he briefly pressed his lips to mine and hovering over me, asked, “Did you leave your helmet at Jeremy’s or bring it home?”

“I brought it home.”

“Here, check the forecast.” He passed me his phone and on the way to the bathroom called over his shoulder, “If it’s going to stay sunny, I thought we might take my bike.  It’ll probably be our last chance this year.”

“Isn’t that just poking the bear?  Wanda already isn’t very happy with us.”

He spoke around his toothbrush, “She’ll get over it.  Anyway, in for a penny…”

He must have figured there was only so pissed off she could be.  I turned his phone on and started looking through weather reports; comparing a couple for a consensus, wanting to be sure we wouldn’t get rained on.  I walked into the bathroom, talking over the sound of the shower to let him know the forecast was cool and sunny. 

“I thought you wanted to start wedding planning on the drive up?  We can’t exactly do that on the bike.” I squeezed paste onto my toothbrush, watching him step from the shower and wrap a towel around his hips.

“We don’t have to leave for a couple of hours; we can talk over breakfast.  I’m going to make some toast or I’ll be starving by lunchtime.  Would you like a piece?”  He asked as he went to get dressed.

“Yes please.”

I finished brushing my teeth and hopped into the shower.  I half dried my hair, got dressed and joined him downstairs where he poured my coffee while I sliced some cheese to put on my toast.

“So wedding plans - we should probably start with where.” Ben began, “I think it’s safe to assume a church is out of the question?”

“For me it is.  You don’t mind though, do you?”

I put my plate on the table and sat across from him.

“Nope, not at all. That’s one option off the list.” He made a line through some writing on the pad of paper next to his plate, “We could go with a hotel; use the ballroom.  There’d be built in catering and decorators which would make things easy.”

“A ballroom?  That’s a bit grand, isn’t it?  And big.” I began to get a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Leaning on his elbow with his chin in his hand he smiled at me, “Maybe before we think about where and how, we should talk about whom.  Have you given any thought to your guest list?”

“Off the top of my head, my Mum and Dad, Finn,” I was counting on my fingers, “Jem and Alice, Leah, Charlie and Chloe and Liam.  I think that’s it.”

He was staring at me, a look of astonishment on his face.

“That’s all?  Nine people? 

“I haven’t lived here very long Ben; it takes time to make friends, especially the kind of friends I’d want to have at our wedding.”

“There’s no one from home you’d like to ask?”

“There are a couple of people I’m still in touch with and if we were getting married in Canada, I’d definitely invite them, but I’m not sure if any of them would be able to make the trip here, especially right after Christmas.  I suppose I could ask but even if they were all to come and all the single people bring a plus one, my list would still only be about twenty people.”

“Jesus.” He tapped his fingers on the table, “That does change things somewhat.”

“Why?  How many are on your list?”

He reached for his phone, flicked through a couple of screens and passed it to me.  I scrolled.  And scrolled, and scrolled.

“Have you actually counted?”

“One hundred and twenty-something; and I may have missed some.”

“Ben,” I was going back through the list, “there are people on here whose names I’ve never even heard you mention.  How close can you be?”

He took a sip of coffee and said, “I started with family and my closest friends but the list just kept growing.  It never occurred to me to edit it because when I picture us getting married, I see big; tons of friends, great food, dancing - a real celebration.  I only plan on doing this once; I’d like to get it right.” He concluded with smile designed to convince me.

“I pictured our families and the people who mean the most to us; something small and intimate that would be about us joining our lives together.”  I stretched my leg under the table and rubbed his calf with my foot, “I guess I could scale up and if you can dial back a bit, we’ll meet somewhere…well, I was going to say in the middle, but I don’t think there’s much chance of that.”

“You don’t want to ask any of your co-workers, anyone in your wider circle of friends?”

“I wasn’t planning on it.  I had actually thought we might do it here at home.”

“In the flat?!” he squawked.

“Yes,” I laughed, “because I wasn’t thinking social event of the season.  A ballroom?  Really, Ben?”

“Look, when you go to boarding school, you make friendships that last your whole life.  And, making films and doing plays, you form very close bonds with people in a relatively short time.  I realize I’ve probably given more thought to what my wedding day would look like than you have…”

“Oh, you definitely have.” I agreed cheerfully.

“I’m used to large weddings,” he continued, “they’re quite common amongst my friends and, at least in this respect, I’m traditional; it’s how I’ve always seen myself getting married.”

 I considered, started thinking about whom else I might want to invite and I could still only come up with, at most, eight or ten people.  But just because the number of people I’d ask might be limited didn’t mean I should be raining on Ben’s parade.  Still, a hotel ballroom or the equivalent and 150 guests were, for me, out of the question. 

 “You know how I always say I’d do anything for you?” I scrunched my face at him, “I’m thinking that might be a slight exaggeration.” 

Grinning, he said, “No.  No, you can’t say a thing like that and then recant.  It’s like saying ‘I love you’.  No take backs.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” I clarified, reaching across the table and sliding my fingers through his, “under the right circumstances I’d probably even kill for you, but a great big over-the-top wedding?  That’s a lot to ask.”

“More to ask than murder?”

“For me?  It’s a tough call.”

I was glad he laughed; it meant he wasn’t taking this so seriously that I should be worried.  At least, he wasn’t yet but we’d barely begun our planning.  We kept talking while we started clearing up the breakfast dishes but I got a reprieve and some time to think when his phone rang and he had to take the call.  It soon became clear that it was the friend who’d written the last film Ben had done and they were talking about having to do some re-shoots.  As he walked down the hall toward his office, he was asking about dates and it was ages before he was off the phone, apologizing for taking so long. 

“The director isn’t happy with a couple of scenes and they’ve done some re-writes.  Since I’m rehearsing the play during the week and then going straight into the run, they’re seeing what they can organize while I try to see if I can rearrange my rehearsal schedule and get a few extra days off here and there.”

“Does that mean you’ll be going away?”

He put his arms around me, “Sorry, yes.  But it’s only Bradford and I won’t be away long, or you could come with me.  It does mean I’ll probably have to cancel a couple of things we were supposed to be going to; there was a fundraiser and that boutique opening thingy I’d said yes to.  Oh damn, there’s also the theatre awards I’m scheduled to present at.”

“I’m not thrilled about you going away but if it means there are three events I don’t have to dress up for and freak out about, I suppose I can live with it.”

“All those pretty dresses in your closet, going to waste…” he mocked me.

“And the fancy lingerie that goes with them too.  Really, it’s you I feel sorry for.”

I saw a familiar sparkle in his eye and tilted my head back for the kiss I knew was coming.  As we parted, he ran his finger down my throat and into the top of my shirt.

“It’d be such a shame if it all went to waste.  What’s to be done about it I wonder?”

“It’s a conundrum alright.  I suppose I could wear it to work, you know, so it gets used at least.”

“Sure, that’s one solution.  Or - and this is just off the top of my head you understand – you could, I don’t know, maybe…do a little fashion show for me?”

“I suppose.” I shrugged, “If you think that’s the sort of thing you think you might enjoy.”

“Oh, yes please.” He nodded vigorously and I cracked up.

By then it was time to for us to get going and we donned leather jackets, boots and gloves, locked up and went outside to uncover Ben’s bike.  He started the engine and got on, balancing before giving me a nod.  I swung my leg over the seat and swore.

His head spun quickly, “What’s wrong?”

“The saddles on these touring bikes are as wide as a sofa.  I’m going to be sitting on this thing for two hours and after yesterday I’m not sure how that’s going to go.”

I felt more than heard his laughter and he was good enough to say we could take the car instead, but I told him I’d be fine, put my arms around him and he pulled out of the drive.  I’d never loved riding on the back of anyone else’s motorcycle, always preferring, needing to be the one in control of the action.  The only other time I’d ridden behind Ben was the night we met and I’d been far too distracted by everything else to care then.  We only made it as far as the second stop sign when he reached up, patting my hands where they rested on his midsection and turning his head, told me to relax.

“Normally I wouldn’t mind,” he shouted through his helmet, “but you’re squeezing the life out of me.”

“I’m not used to sitting back here; I’m nervous.”

He gently tapped his helmet against mine, “Trust me.”

It wasn’t an order, it was a reminder and I smiled inside my helmet.  I trusted him with everything; my heart, with my body and he would never be reckless with me.  I eased my grip, determined to try and enjoy riding with him. 

It was perfect day, the streets around our neighbourhood still wet from last night’s rain, but the motorway was dry by the time we got that far.  Traffic was light and once Ben sensed I had relaxed and was feeling comfortable, he opened up the throttle.  I leaned on him, my thighs hugging his hips and we rolled through the curves together, his body blocking most of the wind, keeping me warm.  Another benefit to riding pillion was that I could sightsee and when we eventually left the motorway, leisurely making our way down a narrow, winding country road bordered with drystone walls and with farm houses set back in the surrounding fields, I breathed in the clean air, looking around and wondering again if he’d could truly be as happy living outside of London as he’d assured me he could.

Ben turned off the road into a long driveway, tall trees nearly reaching together over top to make an autumn coloured tunnel.  I was almost disappointed by how quickly we’d arrived and actually looking forward to the trip home.  He pulled into the carpark and cut the engine.  I got off first, stretched gingerly and stuffed my gloves into my helmet, shaking my hair out.

“Good lord, I thought it was bad this morning!  You look like you’ve been dragged backward through a hedge.” He said, running his hand through his own hair.

“Don’t be a dickhead.”

We grinned at each other and I passed him my helmet, reaching into my jacket for the tweed cap I’d brought.  I adjusted the inner tabs to make the cap smaller, pulled my hair back and jammed the hat onto my head.

“Is that one of mine?”

“Yes.  Better?”

“Much.  You’re adorable.”

“You’re still a dickhead.” I said and flounced off.

He hung our helmets on the bike and caught up with me just inside the door.  The inn was packed, even at this hour, with the late brunch customers overlapping the early lunch crowd.  I scanned the room, looking for an empty table and a young woman approached, taking menus from a stack.

“For two?” she asked and I saw the colour rise in her cheeks as she looked up and realized who she was talking to.

“We’ll be four but we have a reservation,” Ben smiled, “under Ventham.”

She quickly dropped her eyes, scanning her book and her voice came out a bit squeaky, “Oh yes, here you are.  You’re a little early but I’m sure I can have your table ready for you soon.”

She found us two seats at the bar while we waited and we both ordered freshly squeezed orange juice with a double shot of vodka; courage for facing Wanda.  We’d only had a couple of sips when our table opened up and we moved to a cozy banquette next to a huge window looking out over a long, sloping lawn to the river.  There were hooks sunk into the sides of the bench and Ben hung our coats up.  We sat side by side, holding hands and watching a family feeding the ducks, quietly lost in our own thoughts.

Reaching for my drink, I glanced toward the door and said, “There’s your Dad.”

I waved to get Tim’s attention and he saw me, waving back.  He was waiting for Wanda and when she joined him they made their way to the table.  Her mouth was set in a firm line, eyes unreadable and I felt a bit queasy about how angry she might still be.  We got up, Ben hugging Tim who then turned to me, his arms spread wide and I saw Ben reaching for Wanda’s hands as his Dad folded me into a hug.

“Congratulations my dear,” He said, “What an absolute joy this is.”

“Thank you Tim.” I swallowed hard, my eyes welling up.

“Oops, here, take this.” Slightly bemused at my reaction, he stuck his hand into his pocket and offered me a crisp white handkerchief, “I brought it for Wanda but I have another.”

Tim slid into the banquette and I said hello to Wanda, feeling strangely shy.  We hugged, but it wasn’t quite as effusive as Tim’s had been. 

“Let’s sit,” she said, “Then we can talk.”

Our server appeared and took drink orders; buying me a few more seconds to brace myself for the bollocking I was sure was coming.  Wanda wasted no time and Ben reached for my hand, both needing and giving reassurance.

“I won’t pretend I’m not disappointed in you Benedict.  For me to hear it first from a goddamned reporter?  How could you?”

“Mum…”

Until now, when Ben had talked to Tim and Wanda about us, I usually stayed out of it; they were his parents and it was up to him how he dealt with them.  But this time was different and I jumped in, feeling the need to defend him.

“Don’t blame Ben, it was entirely my doing.  He only kept quiet because I asked him to and it was just bad luck that it got out before I was ready for us to tell people.”

“Keeping it from the papers I can understand, but from us?  We’re not ‘people’, we’re his parents.” She glowered, “I’ve been waiting for this for years, for my son to tell me he’d found the woman he wanted to spend his life with and that was taken from me.  I’m not angry - well, I am - but more than that, I’m hurt.”

“To be fair Mum, I did tell you just that, the day I told you we were living together.  I said then that I was going to spend the rest of my life with Kai.  It’s hardly my fault if you didn’t think I was serious.”

“He’s right you know,” Tim chimed in, “he did tell us then and I’ve certainly known for some time they’d get married.”

Wanda fixed her husband with a glare and said, “Of course you knew, you only gave him the bloody ring and didn’t tell me.  I feel as though there’s been some sort of conspiracy to keep this from me for heaven’s sake.  Why was I the last to know?  I feel,” the anger left her face, “as though I was left out.”

“I’m sorry Wanda, that wasn’t our intention at all.” I explained, “Please, try to understand where I was coming from.  You’ve seen the reaction to these rumours and that’s exactly why I wanted to wait.  It’s a huge milestone, one I never thought I’d have in my life and I was being selfish.  I wanted this time to be about me and Ben, because sometimes it feels like it might be the last time anything we do as a couple is truly private again.”

Our drinks were delivered and the waitress gave us menus and said she’d be back to take food orders.  When she’d gone, Wanda answered me.

“Look, I know things are different than when Tim and I were your age.  Even if we were fairly well-known, we were able to decide what people did or didn’t know about our lives, for the most part.  These days, between paparazzi and computers, it is harder to maintain the barrier between work and home.  Even interviews are different; some of the things people have asked him are astonishing.  And you,” she looked at Ben, “you’re hopeless because you’ve already been talking for 5 minutes before it occurs to you that maybe you don’t need to answer at all.”

Ben grinned cheekily and said, “You sounded exactly like Kai right then.”

I cringed inwardly, thinking that may not have been the best thing to say under the current circumstances and I carried on before he could say anything else.

 “I never meant for the news to get out before we could tell our families – I hadn’t told mine yet either – and obviously we never wanted to hurt anyone’s feelings.  I can’t fix it now, but I will apologize for how you found out and ask you to trust that next time we have something big to share you’ll be the first to know, O.K?”

Ben leaned over, pressing his lips to my temple and I was grateful for his loyalty as I tried to make Wanda understand.  Her pale blue eyes bored into mine for what felt like a very long time before she spoke. 

“Apology accepted and I do understand what you were thinking.  But Ben, you had to have known there wasn’t much hope of this not getting out.”

“It had occurred to me but I thought we had a little breathing room and frankly, it was more important to me to give Kai what she needed.  She’s going to be my wife and her happiness comes first for me.”

He smiled cheerfully at his Mum and she looked from his face to mine and back and shook her head. 

“Presenting a united front, are you?  I suppose that’s a good sign for your future.”

“Yes Mum, it is.” He sighed, “If only we were a little more united on what sort of wedding we would be having.”

I poked him in the ribs with my elbow, but it was too late.  Wanda’s inner wedding planner was now fully engaged and she reached into her handbag for a small notebook.

“Have you chosen a date?  Because as it happens, I have a few ideas I thought might be helpful.”

I caught Tim’s eye as I leaned back into the banquette, “I told her it wouldn’t be,” he said, “but she refuses to listen.”

“I’ve been to a great many more weddings than either of these two,” she said, flicking through the pages of her notebook, “For that matter, I’ve had more weddings as well.”

“Wanda,” I took a chance, “I think between Ben and I we already have more than enough ideas to argue over.”

Ben patted my hand, knowing nothing he said would stop his mother, “Her wedding to Dad should be right up your alley.  She wore jeans for fuck’s sake.”

“You wore jeans?” I asked.

“Held up with braces,” Tim clarified, “stripy rainbow ones.”

I started to laugh, “That’s fantastic.”

“It was the seventies and it was cheap and cheerful.  Besides, I was rather pregnant and they were very comfortable.  It wasn’t a fancy wedding,” Wanda smiled at Tim, “but it seems to have stuck.”

I looked up at Ben, “See?  Not fancy but it stuck.  Tell me more Wanda.”

“Oh god.” Ben whined, “Can we order first?  I think I’m going to need my strength for this.”

He handed the menus around and the table got quiet while we read them.  I had decided on steak and kidney pie, Tim was having fish and chips and Wanda couldn’t make up her mind what kind of omelette she wanted.  Ben passed me his menu, pointing.

“I’m going to the loo.  Would you order that for me please?”

“The server won’t come if you leave the table.” I said with a grin, “You can order when you get back.”

“She will if I tell her you’re ready.  Please?  I know she knows who I am and I’ll feel like an idiot if I order it myself.”

“Of course it’ll look completely normal for me to order it.” I rolled my eyes, “Fine, off you go.”

I watched him walk across the crowded restaurant, stopping to talk to our waitress before heading for the bathroom.  She made her way over to us and we ordered our food and more drinks.  When Ben got back he looked at my glass then at his own.

“Why have you got a real drink and I’ve got water?”

“If I’m riding behind you, you get one drink.  You can have this if you’d prefer,” I offered him my glass with a sweet smile, “but then you’re riding pillion.”

“I _knew_ that was your bloody motorbike in the car park.” Wanda hissed.

They stared at each other and Ben slowly reached for his water, taking a sip.

“Fifteen years I’ve been riding Mother, without incident.  We are not having this discussion again.”

I’d never heard him call her that and even when she’d frustrated him before, he’d never used such a sharp tone with her, effectively shutting down all argument.  Wanda blinked rapidly, took a deep breath and slowly broke eye contact.  I would have sworn there were tears in her eyes and I squeezed Ben’s leg, worried he’d really upset her.

“It’s a bargaining tactic.” He said dryly, “This is what she does when she wants her way about something.  She brings up my bike and uses it to make me feel guilty so I have no choice but to give her what she wants.  Forget it Mum, not this time.”

I was astonished when she looked up at him through her eyelashes and smiled coyly, “You don’t even know what I want.”

Ben and his Dad burst out laughing and I looked around the table at the three of them, so close, knowing each other so well and I felt a pang of sadness.

Wanda saw the look on my face and reached out to pat my hand, “It’s alright dear; I was only acting.”

“It’s not that, it’s you – all of you – together.  Suddenly, I miss my family terribly.”

Ben put his arm around me, “It’s not long now, only a few more weeks and they’ll be here.”

“That’s right; they’re still coming for Christmas aren’t they?” Wanda asked.

Ben nodded, “Yes, and we thought it made sense to get married while they’re already here.”

“So you have chosen a date then?” 

“We thought the first week in January, as soon as the play’s done.”

“Good lord, that’s awfully soon, in wedding planning terms.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed in thought and she glanced down at her notebook.  I pulled myself together as our food arrived and I waited for the server to leave then traded plates with Ben, taking my meat pie and giving him the Eggs Benedict he’d been too shy to order for himself, but not before sticking my finger in the hollandaise for a taste.  After the salt and pepper had been passed around and Wanda had tried to tell Tim how much vinegar he liked on his chips, I steered the conversation back to Wanda’s little outburst.

“So, what was it you wanted that you thought you’d have to guilt Ben into?”

“Ah yes.  Well, you know that lovely little church up the road from us?  I thought maybe…”

“No.” We said together.

She looked taken aback at our quick reply, “Why not?  There are plenty of places up here for guests to stay and it’s out of the city and very romantic.”

“No church, no priest, no vows before any kind of god.  That’s the one thing we’d already agreed on.”

Ben shrugged, “Sorry Mum but I’m not a firm enough believer to press Kai on this, so I’m afraid it’s a no to getting married there.”

“Damn.  I thought it was a brilliant solution.  You could have stayed at that lovely manor house that’s been converted to a hotel and Kai’s parents would get to see a little more of the countryside.  And the village is so pretty during the holidays.”

“What manor?” I asked.

“What’s it called Tim?  You remember; it’s where the Carmichaels had their silver wedding party.”

“Bradbury House?  Bradley?  Banbury?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Wanda flapped her hand at him, “I can get the details if you want them.”

I swallowed my mouthful of food and asked, “Your friends had their anniversary there, so, how big is this place?”

“Oh, I think there were about a hundred guests or so but that was in the summer and there was a tent set up on the grass for extra seating.  If you’re interested, I can find out more and email you.”

I looked at Ben, “Think you might be able to whittle a few names off your guest list?” 

“Let’s find out what this place is called first and look it up online before you make me do anything rash.  Although, I’m starting to like the idea of booking us all into a hotel and having everyone together for a couple of days.  And it’s nice if we don’t have to drive anywhere; the roads up here can be terrible in the winter and your friends do like a drink.”

I stared at him, “Oh I see; it’s my friends who get drunk and drop their toothbrushes in toilets, is it?”

“Wasn’t one of my friends,” he grinned.

We took our time over coffee and tea, Ben and I letting Wanda tell us all her ideas while we smiled politely and committed to none of them.  When it was time to leave, Wanda and I went outside to wait while Tim and Ben argued over paying the bill.  I moved away from the door and lit a cigarette.

“Wanda, if you don’t mind my saying, you seem to have an awful lot of notes in your little book for someone who only found out yesterday that her son was getting married.”

She looked at me from the corner of her eye and a smile crept over her face.

“Well spotted.  Alright, I’ll come clean but you have to promise not to tell Ben I said this.”

“Go on.”   

“I knew perfectly well, when he told us you were living together that he was going to propose eventually.  And you said yourself that if he needed a wedding you’d give him one.  Once I saw for myself how you are together, I knew it was inevitable.  My son loves you and he’s calmer, more peaceful than I think I’ve ever known him to be; he’s fulfilled and I’m delighted.  Anyway, after you and I had our little talk,” I snorted at her description, “I started to write things down; flowers, locations, that sort of thing.  Granted, I didn’t think it would be this soon but you two have your own way of doing things and it seems to work for you.”

“Meeting your son is the best thing that’s ever happened to me; I’ve never known anyone like him.  I hope you and Tim know what an amazing thing you did, raising him to be the man he is.” 

I chucked my cigarette into the ashtray and gave Wanda the biggest hug I thought she could take.  Tim and Ben came outside just as Wanda and I separated and we walked them to their car.  We were saying good bye when Tim put his arm around my shoulders and lowered his head so only I could hear him.

“I know you miss your Mum and Dad and I would never presume that we could be any sort of replacement, but you’re part of our family as well and you mean the world to us.”

I had had an emotional few days already and I completely fell apart, hugging Tim fiercely and crying my head off.

“Dad, what the hell..?” Ben came around the car and peeled me off Tim, holding me and chuckling quietly, “What did you do?”

Tim was patting my back apologetically, “Until today, I had no idea she could cry.  I’m so sorry.  She has one of my hankies in her pocket.  Oh dear, we should probably go.”

They drove away and Ben walked me over to where we’d parked.  He leaned on the bike watching me while I cleaned mascara from my cheeks and blew my nose.  I told him what both Wanda and Tim had said, skipping over the part she hadn’t wanted Ben to know.

“They’re some of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Poor you; no wonder you went to pieces.”

“I know.  Seriously, what were they thinking?” I asked, making him laugh.

“Do you feel better?  Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He swung his leg over the seat, his helmet resting between his legs on the fuel tank.  I stood next to him, put my hat back into my pocket and dug around until I found my lip balm, necessary protection from the wind while travelling on the bike.

“Good idea,” he said as I glided the stick over my mouth, “can I have some of that?”

“Of course you can.”

I stuck the tube back in my pocket and taking his chin gently in my hand, I kissed him, rubbing my lips across his.  One arm went around my waist, our leather jackets squeaking as they brushed together.  I looked up, smiling into his eyes.

“Enough?”

He rubbed his lips together, frowning.

“Nearly.  Perhaps just a little more.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pressing my body into his and we kissed for a long time, oblivious to our surroundings until we heard giggles from the car park behind me.  He looked up and waved, grinning.  I turned to look over my shoulder at two girls, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, wide-eyed and shyly waving back as they walked behind an older couple on their way to their car.

“Oops.” I said.

“I’m sure they’ve seen worse on telly.”

“That’s not really what I meant.  Did they have their phones out?”

“I didn’t notice actually.  But I don’t think they knew it was me until I waved at them, and what does it matter if they did?  I don’t care who sees me kissing you.”

“Well then, I don't either.” I smiled, reaching back into my pocket, “Lip balm?” I offered.

At home that evening, we were relaxing on opposite ends of the couch, Ben focussed on his ever-present script and me watching a baking competition on T.V.  During a commercial, I went upstairs to put on a sweater, feeling cold.  Back in the sitting room, I tucked my feet under me, curling up in the corner of the sofa but even before the next ad, I had gotten up to get a blanket from the linen closet.  I wrapped it around myself and checked the thermostat before dropping back into my spot with a sigh.

He looked at me over the top of his script, “I can light a fire if you’d like.”

“That’s alright.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me; it’s not even cold in here.”

He opened his arms, “Let me warm you up.”

I jumped at his invitation, lying between his legs, my head on his chest, arms around his waist so I could slip my hands under his shirt.  He pulled the blanket up, briskly rubbing my back and bent to put his lips to my forehead.

“You feel warm enough.”

“I’m not though.” I shivered.

“I believe you, but I think you might have a fever.”

Other than being chilled and maybe a slight hoarseness in my throat, I felt completely fine.

“Not a chance; I never get sick.”

“Don’t exaggerate; everyone gets sick sometimes.”

“Don’t be so literal.” I muttered into his chest, “I only meant I don’t remember the last time I had a cold.”

He raised his hand to my forehead, checking my temperature again with the backs of his fingers, “You definitely feel warmer than normal.”

“On the outside maybe, but not on the inside.” I rolled to my side and ran my hand over his belly, “You know what would warm me up?”

“Tea?” he suggested.

“No,” my fingers drifted higher, circling his nipple, “not tea.”

“Socks?”

I giggled.

“I’ll give you one more shot and if you don’t get it right, I may resort to using that vibrator you so thoughtfully bought for me.”

He put on his thinking face - eyes narrowed, brow creasing, “I’m very seriously tempted to guess wrong just so I can watch.”

I sat up, smoothing my palms down his thighs, “I’m going upstairs.  If you’re not waiting for me in bed in five minutes, I’ll start without you.”

Walking toward the stairs I smiled as I heard him say, “Promises, promises.”

I had an ulterior motive in suggesting he meet me in bed; I wouldn’t be crawling into cold sheets.  I turned on the warming lamps in the bathroom before I dug around in a drawer for something I might be able to stand to wear to bed.  Going strictly by feel, I pulled out an old t-shirt of Ben’s that had been washed to softness.  I unfolded the dark blue fabric and discovered it was emblazoned with the name of some god awful Swedish prog-rock band he’d once tried to convince me I’d like by forcing me to listen to an entire album while I was trapped in the car with him.  The top was too long, too loose and it wasn’t sexy in the slightest but at least I’d be warmer than if naked.  I brushed my teeth and washed my face then I changed and peeked out the door.  He was propped up against the pillows and he winked at me, lifting the duvet.  I ran to the bed, diving onto his lap and tucking my face into his neck. 

Running his hands down my sides he said, “You’re wearing my shirt.  I love it when you wear my shirts.”

“Good, because I’m too cold to take it off.”

He wrapped his arms around me and I sighed, his body radiating heat.  He raised the duvet, pulling it up around my back, his hands cupped my bum and we cuddled, my feet slowly thawing where I’d tucked them under his thighs, drawing only the mildest protest from him.  When my hands felt warmer, I pulled them from behind his back and began running them lightly over his belly and up to his chest, swirling his chest hair with my fingertips and thumbing his nipples until they hardened.  His hands came up to cover mine, stopping their movement.

“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to do this?”

“Are you joking?”

He shook his head, “No.  I don’t want you to use up all your energy if it’s going to leave you feeling worse later.  Maybe you should be resting.”

I stared at him, blinking slowly, “You’re worried about my health and yet you were here in bed, naked and waiting for me?”

“You told me to.” He defended himself.

“That’s an excellent point and your concern for my welfare is touching but,” I pointed down, “you know I can feel that, right?”

“Completely beyond my control,” he explained innocently, “the minute you mentioned using your vibrator, it was out of my hands…so to speak.”

We were still giggling when I fell forward, licking and nibbling at his throat, making my way to his ear where I whispered, “Do you just want to watch or..?”

His throat moved as he swallowed, “I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

I sat up so I could look into his eyes while I thought about what he might like; about what I might like and as I did, he leaned forward, aiming for my lips.  I put my hand over his mouth.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?  If I am getting sick, you don’t want to catch it.”

One eyebrow shot up and he looked utterly disgusted, pulling my hand from his face.

“You want to make love but you don’t want me to kiss you?  You cannot be serious.”

Trying not to laugh I said, “I’m only looking out for your best interests.”

“Kai, I spend half my life with my tongue in your mouth.  If you are contagious, it’s a bit late for caution now.”

“Half your life!” I tilted my head, teasing, “Now who’s exaggerating?”

“Fine - an hour a day at the very least.  My point remains, we live together, we spent all day yesterday in bed; at this point we’re practically a fully overlapping Venn diagram.  Rationally, if you’ve got a cold, from a purely statistical standpoint, I’m doomed to catch it anyway.”

“Venn diagram?  Purely statistic…oh Professor, it makes me so hot when you go all multi-syllabic.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“I’m not even kidding, feel...”

I lifted his hands to my chest holding them there even as I kissed him, letting him feel my teeth on his bottom lip.  He squeezed, my nipples pressing into his palms through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.

“Mm, how lovely,” He said, appreciatively, “and all because I used a couple of fancy words.”

“I know.  One of these days I’m going to make you read me ‘A Brief History of Time’.  You can balance it on my ass while you fuck me from behind.”

We fell into a fit of laughter which, unfortunately for me, led to a brief coughing spell and another worried look from Ben.

“Alright, maybe I am coming down with something.” I conceded, “If so, we might not get to do this for a couple of days, so we’d better make it count.”

Ben dug under the duvet coming up with the vibrator and bottle of lube in one big hand and said cheerfully, “Here you go.  Get started.”

Having decided what I wanted, I slid off his lap and asked him to move down the bed and onto his side.  Taking the bottle of lube from him, I squirted a little onto the fingers of my left hand, passed it back and flipped around, burrowing head-first under the blankets.  He lifted them to look at me.

“It’s nice and warm under here,” I explained, “you stay up there and see if you can find something to keep you occupied.”

On my side with my face at his navel, I was half covered by the duvet, still allowing him easy access to my lower body and his hand stroked the outside of my thigh, sliding under the hem of my shirt.  For now I kept my left hand loosely closed, resting on the mattress and draped my right arm over his waist.  I pressed my mouth to his stomach, kissing lower, slowly drawing swirls with my tongue, sucking at the sensitive place beside his hip bone, leaving my mark on him. 

I closed my eyes and ran my mouth up and down his length, savouring the velvety softness of his skin on my lips, breathing in his scent and as it worked its usual magic on me, I rubbed my thighs together.  He noticed, and when my tongue began to trace the thick veins that stood out along his cock, his hand pressed between my legs.  I gasped as his fingers, cool and slick, stroked lube from my clit to my entrance.  I was thinking it was overkill; he always excited me so thoroughly that we’d only ever used lube for anal sex but it only took a moment before I changed my mind.   It felt different, the texture thicker, more…oily than my natural fluids and it got everywhere, all over my thighs and his hand as it moved over me.  I moaned, squeezing around his hand and heard his satisfied chuckle as he leaned over to kiss my leg.

I took him in, tonguing around the smooth head of his cock and feeling him thicken, hardening in my mouth, a sensation I loved and knew I’d never tire of.  I sucked, swirling my tongue and went lower.  He didn’t move, letting me set the pace or possibly distracted by the attentions he lavished on me, one finger sliding deep inside me when I sucked harder, his thumb drawing shapes over my clitoris.  I licked him from root to tip, bathing his length in my saliva and I took more of him, stiff and heavy, into my mouth until he began to move with me. 

I pulled back until only the head of his thick shaft was still in my mouth and I grasped him low with my left hand, the lube I’d squirted there now melted and dripping.  Wrapping my fingers firmly as far around him as I could, stroking his underside with my thumb, I tasted salt on my tongue.  I reached down to cup his balls, slowly flexing my fingers and he tightened in my palm.

I’d put the lube on my hand because I’d been wanting to try something and now, I slid my hand down and extended my middle finger back behind his sac, pressing, looking for a tight spot along his perineum. 

I heard his voice through the bedding, “What are you…oh my god.”

It was obvious I’d found the right place; he groaned loudly and his whole body twitched.  I sucked his cock, my fingertip pressing harder in little circles.  His breath caught and he raised his right leg, bending it at the knee and pressing his foot into the mattress.  I took advantage, using two fingers now to massage his perineum and kept working him with my mouth.

His hand disappeared from between my legs only to return a second later, pushing the vibrator between my lower lips.  He slid it back and forth, rubbing the tip against my clit and his other hand pressed between my thighs, moving them apart.  I mimicked his position, raising my knee and using both hands now, he spread me open while pushing the toy inside me.  I moaned, my head bobbing deeper and he echoed my movements, slowly fucking me with the vibrator and it felt good but also strange, to be penetrated by something not _him_.  His head rested on my thigh and I could feel his breathing, hot, unsteady.

“Press harder Kai.” He husked.

My hips bucked in response and there was a liquid wave from deep inside me, my lust deepening at his excitement.  I slid down his length, pushed more firmly and his abdominal muscles began to flex; I felt wetness in the back of my throat.  Fluid had begun to ooze from him, not the usual trickle of pre-cum but a slow, steady flow.  As it seeped onto my tongue I noticed he tasted different, sharper and bitter enough that I might have pulled away except that now, he was moaning, nearly insensible with arousal and I didn’t want to ruin it for him.  I was delighted by his reaction and so turned on by it that I was rolling my hips, the toy still moving inside me and I wanted more.  I kept my fingers circling, stimulating the knot of nerves inside him, felt a gush of heat in my mouth and swallowed quickly, but this time I let him fall from my mouth and took him in my other hand, stroking hard.

“No…” He gasped, “why did…can you..?” and he reached under the blankets, pushing my head back down.

“Ben, I can’t.”

He stopped immediately, concern overriding his desire, and he flipped the duvet back so he could see me, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, it’s just, I’m so sorry,” I sheepishly apologized, “I couldn’t take the taste.”

“What?”

I put my hand over his and gently pushed it back, shuddering as the vibrator slipped from me.  I sat up, pulling the t-shirt down over my knees.

“You know I usually love the way you taste but tonight, it’s stronger and sort of sour.” 

I felt awful saying it, like I was criticizing him for something beyond his control but I had to be honest.  He raised himself onto his elbow and reached up, his hand going around the back of my neck and pulling me down, his lips meeting mine.  I’d always found it provocative as hell that he never hesitated to kiss me after oral sex, or that even after he’d come inside me he’d still go down on me to make sure I was satisfied but even so, I was surprised to feel his tongue push deep into my mouth and stroke mine.  He leaned back and made a face.

“You’re absolutely right, ghastly.  Why is that?”

“I assume it’s something to do with your prostate but I’m not exactly sure.  I’ll ask Leah.”

His eyes widened, “You’ll what?”

“Ask Leah.  I got the idea from her, so she might know.”

He rubbed his face with his hand, “You discuss our sex life with your friends?  In that sort of detail?”

“Not with all my friends, only Leah.  And no, I don’t go into specifics necessarily, but sometimes we discuss technique or positions.  Or give each other suggestions.  Don’t look at me like that; I’m sure you do the same.”

“No, I bloody well don’t.  Not with anyone.”

“Really?”  I was dubious.

“Really.  God, I’m never going to be able to look her in the eye again.  I mean, think about it Kai, would you be comfortable knowing I’d discussed your oral talents or - or how flexible you are, with Ollie or Tom?”

I shrugged, “Yeah.  I assumed you did.  And I don’t get into the nuts and bolts with Leah, ‘I did this and he did that’; it’s all a bit more abstract, so if you did the same, I’d be fine with it.  I’m not ashamed of liking sex or being good at it.”

“Well no, of course not and neither am I but…the two of you talked about trying what you just did and now what?  You’re going to give her a report on how it went?”

I grinned at his discomfiture, “I would have told her if it was a success or not, before I knew it freaked you out.  I’d still like to know if she’s ever experienced the thing with the funky taste.  But if you’d prefer, I’ll look it up on the internet.”

He sat up, resuming his previous position with the pillows behind his back and he frowned.  I started to speak and coughed again, covering my mouth with my hand and when I stopped, he asked if I needed a glass of water.

“No thanks, I’m alright.  Ben, my sweet, I had no idea it would make you so uncomfortable.”

“So you’ll stop?”

“No-o.  If I didn’t trust Leah completely to keep my confidences, I wouldn’t have said anything to her.  But she’s like Fort Knox and she’d never repeat a word of it to anyone.  It’s girl talk; we have a couple of drinks and we talk about sex.  There’s no reason for you to be embarrassed with her.”  I chuckled, “You should be thanking her; she gives excellent advice.”

He rolled his eyes at me, “You’re not taking this seriously at all, are you?”

“Not really no, because I think it’s normal and that you’re making too much of it.”

He inhaled and exhaled very slowly, “You’re one hundred percent sure she’d not tell a soul?”

“Not in a million years.  Look at it this way Ben, if I can’t talk to her, who does that leave me with?”

“Me?”

I smiled and took his hand, “Yes you, of course.  But sometimes I like to surprise you and I can’t do that if we discuss it all beforehand.  And, it’s not the same as having a good blather with a friend so if not you, that leaves me with Jem.  And you didn’t like when I’d talked to him about our sex life before, so I stopped.”

“Yes, you’re right, if you have to talk about it with anyone, I’d rather it was Leah.  Christ, talk about a rock and a hard place.”

“Speaking of hard places,” I grinned, crawling up the bed toward him, “can we get back to what we were doing?”

“I suppose so.  If I have to.”

“You do.  In fact, I insist.”

“Come here then, sit on my lap.”

I started to swing my leg over him and he stopped me, “Not that way, both legs over here; side saddle.”

“Side saddle?” I giggled.

“Yeah,” he leered at me, “I want to try something we haven’t discussed beforehand.”

I pulled my shirt up and settled on his lap; he was still hard enough that I could feel him pressing into the back of my thigh.  We kissed, slow and deep until my lips were tingling.  He plucked at the cloth of my shirt.

“Are you ready to take this off yet?”

“Yes, you’ve warmed me right up.”

“I’d like to take credit for that but I actually turned the heat up to full whack before I got into bed.”

“That was very thoughtful of you.”

“I’m glad you think so since it was almost completely self-serving on my part.  I wanted you naked,” His hands gathered the fabric at my hips.  I raised my arms so he could pull it up and off and his voice dropped as he continued, “Because I love to feel your skin on mine.”

All our previous silliness dropped away as we put our arms around each other, hands caressing, his mouth playing over the delicate skin at my throat and I could feel wetness pooling where our bodies met.  I opened my legs, reached down and took his penis in my hand, pressing it to my pussy, still slippery with lube and rolling my hips against him.  My other hand sank into his hair and I tickled his lips with my tongue until he caught my lip in his teeth and I moaned.  His arm went around my waist and he eased me back, his hand covering mine, pushing down until his cock was at my entrance and I held my breath in anticipation.  We held his shaft in our hands and he pulled me forward, slipping inside me.  He took my hands, folding my arms around his neck and he arched his hips, pushing deep, my body stretching with his girth.  I made a small sound and he nuzzled my shoulder.

“Still sore?”

“Yes,” I sighed, “just enough.  You feel so good.”

His hold snug around my waist, kisses feathering over my collarbone, he put his other arm under my knees, raising them, pulling me tight so he felt huge pushing into me.  He slowly lifted me, lowered me, again and again, barely inside me then driving his hips upward, filling me completely and holding me while I clung to him, sucking on his neck, biting at the muscles tensing in his shoulders as he rocked into me.  He leaned back on the pillows with my body curled in his arms and he moved faster, long, hard strokes at an angle that made me gasp aloud.  Our mouths met in sloppy, frantic kisses and he squeezed my legs together, his muscular thighs propelling him up inside me until I moaned into his mouth.

Three, four more thrusts and he cried out, his arms gripping me firmly, almost painfully as he buried himself in me, shuddering with release and staring into my eyes.  I held his face in my hands, captivated by his beauty and vulnerability in this moment, the devotion in his storm coloured eyes.  He was shaking.

Gently touching my lips to his, I said, “I know my love, it’s the same for me.  No one else has ever made me feel like this.  Only you Ben, only you, for the rest of my life.”

A soft groan rumbled from his chest and he lowered me onto my back, still deep inside me and I wound my legs around his waist.  He reached for my hands, entwining his fingers with mine and pressing them into the bed, raising himself up so he could see my face and I his, while he held me down; possessive.  His back undulating in slow snaky movements, his pubic bone pushed hard against mine.  He moved from side to side, up and down, watching me, listening to my breathing to find exactly what I needed from him.  He ducked his head, drawing a nipple into his soft, wet mouth and I dug my fingernails into his hands, bearing down on his girth, matching his movements until I let go, crooning his name in satisfaction.  I felt it, felt him in every part of my body as the sweet tension radiated through me in waves.  He kissed his way up to my mouth, our lips coming together softly.

He lifted his head, our eyes met and he asked, “Do you love me?”

“There hasn’t been a word invented yet to say how I feel about you.  You are my everything.”

His head dropped to the pillow and I wrapped my arms around him, slid my legs down his thighs to hold him there, wanting him to stay close.  I turned my head and, lips barely touching, we breathed each other in, drifting in the afterglow, fingers moving lightly over skin, his warm weight on top of me. 

He lifted his head and asked if I’d like something to drink.  I took a breath to answer him but before I could speak, I coughed and immediately burst out laughing at the look on his face as the force of the cough popped him right out of me.

“Oh Jesus,” he giggled, “good thing you managed to hold that in as long as you did.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, “that wasn’t a very romantic way to finish.”

“I don’t mind.  Somehow, it seems a very ‘Kai’ thing to have happened.  You said the most beautiful things to me tonight.” Smiling, he brushed my hair back from my face, “It seems fitting that you’d do something like that in the end so I wouldn’t think you were going all sentimental.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Sure.” He nodded.

“Ben…” I turned my head, coughing again and cleared my throat, “See?  It’s not like I can control it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Seriously, cut it out.” I said, starting to get upset.  I put my hands on his biceps, squeezing, “I know I’m not always the softest or the most romantic person in the world and I know it frustrates you when I don’t seem to be taking things to heart or when I make jokes but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it and I meant what I said to you tonight.  I’ll say all of it again, every word, right now if you need me to.”

His brows drew together and he took a deep breath, “My love, I was only teasing.  Don’t think for a second that I don’t think you’re hilarious, even when I’m trying to be romantic and you derail it.  I’m well aware by now who you are and how you express yourself and I wouldn’t want you to change.  Even when I don’t like you, I still love you.”

I could feel the look of shock on my face.

“Even when you don’t _like_ me?” 

A slow smile crept across his face, “Ooh, look at that, full lemur.”

“Wow.  Wow, do I ever feel like giving you a smack right now.”

“No you don’t.  You think I’m hilarious too and you know it.”

I couldn’t help smiling back at the delighted sparkle in his eye, “Fine, yes, I do.  Even if I don’t like you very much right now.”

“I can live with that.  I know you love me anyway.”

I started coughing again and wasn’t able to stop.  Ben moved off me and helped me sit up, rubbing my back.

“I’d love you even more,” I rasped, “if you’d go get me that drink now.”

He stood up on the bed, stepping over my legs and before he could jump down, I reached up and landed a slap on his naked butt, earning a bratty grin over his shoulder as he walked to the bathroom.  He came back with glass of water, stopping to turn the thermostat down on his way back to bed.  I drank it all and he refilled it, putting the glass on the nightstand on my side of the bed before climbing back into bed and turning the light off.

“I know you’re very sensitive and everything,” I said, “So try not to take it personally that I’m going to turn around.  It’s only so I’m not coughing in your face all night.”

I settled on my side, pulling my hair up over the pillow and he curled himself around me, tucking the duvet under my chin.

“And you try not to take it personally that sometimes,” he ran his hand down my side and squeezed my bum, “I prefer this side of you anyway.”

Chuckling, I reached for his hand, pulling his arm around me and drifted off to sleep.

I had no idea how much later it was when I woke up, my throat raw.  The blankets were pulled right up to my chin but I was shivering.  Ben was sleeping on his stomach next to me, his arm loosely draped over my waist.  I sat up and my head felt like it was going to explode.  I started to get out of bed and Ben woke.

He turned onto his side, “Where are you going?”

“I need another blanket.”

“Is your throat sore?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I can hear it; you’re all growly.”

“My head hurts too.  I can’t believe this.”

“I’ll get a blanket for you.” He pushed up on his elbow and kissed my cheek, “I’ll be right back.”

He found the discarded t-shirt on the floor and gave it to me before he ran downstairs.  He didn’t come back up immediately so I put the shirt on and lay down, curling into a ball under the duvet.  Dimly, I heard the microwave beep and then the sound of his footsteps on the stairs.

“Sit up,” he turned one of the bedside lamps on and when I was upright, put the blanket he’d grabbed off the sofa around me and passed me a cup that was warm to the touch, “Honey and lemon.  Have a sip; I’m going to see if there’s any cold medicine.”

He went to the loo and while he was rummaging around I took a drink, grimacing as I swallowed.  When he came back he had a foil packet in his hand and he sat on the bed beside me, popping two tablets into his palm and offering them to me.  I took them and managed to get them down.

“Thank you.”

He smiled sweetly, “You’re welcome, you poor thing.”

He got back under the duvet, shoving a pile of pillows against the headboard and half reclined, reaching for the cup in my hands.

“Let me hold that and you come over here and get comfortable.”

“You can’t sleep sitting up.”

“I most certainly can, if it means you’re taken care of.  And please stop talking, it sounds painful.”

I nodded, grimacing as my head throbbed and I crawled between his legs, lying on my side with my face to his chest.  He straightened the blanket around my shoulders and pulled the duvet up to cover me.

“Would you like some more of this?” He offered me the cup of hot lemon.

“Not right now.” I whispered.

He put it on the nightstand and turned the lamp off, putting his arms around me and resting his chin on my head.

“Wake me if you need anything; anything at all, alright?”

“’kay.” I said and fell back to sleep almost immediately.

In the morning, even I had to admit I couldn’t go in to the office and I called Myra to let her know.  My voice kept breaking, my head pounded and every swallow felt like it was full of knives.  Ben was in full Florence Nightengale mode and as he got ready to go to rehearsal, he kept popping back in to check on me, testing my temperature with his hand, tucking blankets around me when, now sweaty and feverish, I dared to kick them off and asking if I needed anything.  It was very sweet but as lousy as I felt, he was starting to get on my nerves with his fussing and I wished he’d just hurry up and leave for work so I could go back to sleep.  He went down to have breakfast and I pulled a pillow over my head to block out the noise.  Before long he was back, lifting the pillow and whispering my name.

“If you’re trying to wake me up, what’s the point in whispering?” I asked, cracking one eye to glare at him.

“It’s not my fault you’re sick so don’t bite my head off.” He said good-naturedly, “Now turn over; I’m taking you down to the sitting room.”

“Why?  I’m fine here.”

“You are now but you might be bored later.  Come on, do as you’re told.”

I flopped over and he scooped me, duvet and all, off the bed and carried me downstairs.  He deposited me on the sofa, adjusted a bunch of cushions and sat next to me.

“I wish I didn’t have to go, but I have no choice.  Your phone is on the coffee table and it’s fully charged.” He pointed at each item as though I wouldn’t know what they were otherwise, “There’s a flask of tea here on the tray with your book, cold medicine, Paracetamol and the remote control and I’ve made you a sandwich for later; it’s in the refrigerator and I’ve left the lemons and honey on the counter.  I’ll call you later to see if you need anything, but promise me you’ll text me if you start to feel worse, O.K?”

I nodded.

“Oh god, I don’t feel right leaving you alone.”

“I just want to sleep and even if you could stay home I wouldn’t be able to with you staring at me and checking my temperature every five minutes.”  Looking into his anxious face I couldn’t help but smile and I spoke much more gently than I had before, “It’s only a cold Ben, not the plague.  Don’t worry, you’ve thought of everything and I’ll be fine.” 

He searched my face, exhaled slowly and the tension left his shoulders.  Then I ruined it by coughing until I choked.

“I’m calling Jeremy.”

I grabbed his arm as he reached for my phone, “Don’t you dare.  Seriously, I know you care but I’m not an invalid.  Go to work.  I promise - I’ll call you if I need you.”

I eventually convinced him to go and after he’d kissed me good bye and pressed his hand to my forehead one last time, I collapsed gratefully into the cushions as the door locked behind him.  I slept off and on for the rest of the day and I texted him every time I woke up, confirming I was still alive.  I dozed and watched T.V. and I tried to read my book but it was too heavy and the print kept moving around on the page so I gave up. 

It was dark outside when I sent my last text, two words, ‘Soup please’, hoping to catch him before he got home and the next time I woke up, he was sitting at my feet, reading.

“Hi.” I croaked.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like hell.”

“My poor sick girl.  I stopped by the chemist and got you some cough medicine and when you’re up to it, I did get you soup.”

“What kind?”

He grinned, “Chicken noodle.  Also Thai curry, cream of vegetable and beef with barley.  I wasn’t sure what you’d feel like so I went to three different restaurants.”

I laughed, and I coughed and then I let him pour my cough syrup and hold the spoon for me.  I drew the line at him feeding me my supper, flat out refusing to open my mouth until he let me do it myself.  When I’d finished, he took the mug from my hand and set it on the table.

“Why are you so bloody stubborn?  Can’t you let up for one minute and let me take care of you?  Please?”

“I love you for wanting to and I appreciate everything you did today, I really do.  But I feel like, if I let you do everything, I’m giving up and then I actually feel worse than if I try to power through and do at least a few things for myself.”

He crossed his arms, blinking slowly, “So if you admit you’re sick, you’ll feel sick?”

I nodded, “I guess.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say.  You must be delirious.”

I shrugged, “What do you want from me?  I’m very ill you know.  I think it’s the plague.”

“It’s not the plague.  You don’t even have a fever anymore.”

“No, it broke this afternoon and I feel gross from sweating it out.” I threw the blankets off, “I’m going to run a bath.”

“Stay put, I’ll do it.”

“For heaven’s sake, what did I just say?”

He stood up and leaned over me, forcing me onto my back, “I don’t care what you said.  I’m going upstairs to fill the tub.” His voice was hard, brooking no argument, “Then I’m going to give you a bath, towel you dry and tuck you up in bed, do I make myself clear?”

I looked into his eyes, suddenly feeling a whole different kind of feverish.

“Yes Benedict.”

“That’s what I thought.  Now stay here and I’ll come get you when your bath is ready.”

I lay on the sofa with my heart beating a little too quickly and a silly grin on my face.  He knew me too well and I loved him for it.   I let him take care of me.  


	29. Questions and Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I kind of messed myself up as far as chapter numbers by posting that one paragraph tease a week ago and ended up deleting it because I couldn't figure out what else to do. The good news is, my excuse is that my brain is fried from doing the final edit in preparation for posting.
> 
> So, without (much) further ado, Chapter 29: Kai's not handling this whole wedding planning thing very well. Shocking, no?

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 29 – Questions and Answers

 

Tuesday passed pretty much as Monday had done, with Ben depositing me on the sofa in my pile of blankets next to a stack of books, pot of tea and a giant bottle of cough syrup before he left for the day.  I slept off and on; heated up some of the soup he’d brought home the night before and stared at the rain streaking down the windows, counting droplets in my boredom.  Just knowing that I couldn’t do much besides lie on the couch was enough to make me squirrely.  If it were a day off from work, I could happily fritter it away doing, essentially, nothing but this enforced inactivity rankled and I hated feeling less than capable. 

I opened my laptop and emailed Myra, asking if there was anything I could help with from home.  Her response was quick and to the point, _‘Everything’s under control.  Take care of yourself and I’ll let you know if I need you.’_   It served me right for hiring someone so competent.  I read through the rest of the emails in my inbox, giggling at the one from Charlie.  He’d written to say he’d had an epic weekend away with his new boyfriend.  He claimed it had been one disaster after another, one of his best stories ever and that I wasn’t getting another detail from him until I phoned because I owed him an apology for making him find out I was getting married from a newspaper. I dialed.

“Have you called to tell me how sorry you are?” he asked, answering on the first ring.

“I am not apologizing for not telling you before I told my Mum and Dad.”

“You told all our friends before me though, didn’t you?” He whinged, “And you told Leah I couldn’t keep a secret.”

“You can’t.  I’ll bet she only told you I’d said it after making you swear you wouldn’t tell me.”

I could hear him breathing into the phone and finally he said, “It’s possible it went something like that.”

My laughter set me coughing and when I’d recovered he continued, “Have you got a cold?”

“Yes.”

“Serves you right.  Karma, that is.”

“Charlie, I would have told you in person eventually,” I said soothingly, “but it all got away from us with those pictures.  We were trying to keep it quiet for a while and it backfired.  I don’t want you to be angry at me, I’ve already had to apologize to both sets of parents and it’s taken a bit of the shine off this whole thing for me.”

I could hear his smile as he said, “You could make it up to me.”

“And how would that go?”

“We-ell,” he sing-songed, “It would be rather a coup for me if I were asked to style the future Mrs. Cumberbatch for her wedding…”

“First, it would only be a coup if I said you could tell everyone in your contacts list you were doing it which, obviously, I won’t.”

“And second?”

“Who else would I ask?”

“But I can’t tell anyone?”

“No one, because this isn’t a premiere or an awards show, this is my wedding and it’s personal.  I can’t imagine anyone else helping me find my wedding dress Charlie, but I’m asking you as my friend, not as a professional.  Are you O.K. with that?”

He sighed, “Of course I am, you fool.  On my honour, I’ll not breathe a word to anyone.  One thing though…you realize that if I can’t tell anyone who the dress is for, it won’t be like the last time you needed my help and we got all those freebies?  Designers aren’t going to give me the really good stuff on a promise.”

I chuckled, “Yeah, I know.  Ben and I have already talked about this; he knows I don’t care about the whole designer thing and I know he doesn’t care what it costs as long as I find the right dress.  And this time, I don’t want any argument from you; you’re being paid for your time.”

“I’m bloody not.  You’ve asked me as your friend, not as a professional and you can’t have it both ways, so there.  Now,” he plowed ahead, cutting off my protest, “how much time have we got?”

“Oh, ages.  We haven’t picked a day yet, but it’s not until the first week in January.”

“Are you fucking mad?” His voice went up in pitch, “That’s not ‘ages’, that’s nothing.  Oh my god, oh shit.”

“Charlie, calm down, it’s more than two months away.  You only have to find me a dress; I have a whole wedding to organize.”

“Do you hear that sound?  That’s my head hitting my desk.  Honestly, you have no idea at all, have you?”

I started to get that sinking feeling in my stomach again, the one that I was getting more and more often when making wedding plans.  I tried to answer him but only a sort of defeated squeak came out.

“Never mind just choosing the dress, there are fittings and alterations and accessories.  Shoes.  Oh god, six months minimum Kai, that’s standard.  No, there’s nothing to be done, we have to get to work on this straight away.  What are you doing this evening?”

“Being sick and lying on the couch.”

“Will Ben be home?”

“He’s coming home after rehearsal to change for a meeting but he’ll be gone again by 7.  But Charlie, I’m not sure I feel well enough to…”

“That’s just too bad.  We don’t have time for your feebleness to slow us down.  I’ll see you at 7 o’clock.  Byeee.”

He hung up in my ear and I collapsed onto the sofa with a groan, pulling the blankets over my head and trying to think if there was anything I felt less like doing than looking at pictures of wedding dresses.  Or finding a venue, deciding on music, setting the guest list…about the only thing I was feeling confident about was choosing the flowers.  And the groom. 

It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate Charlie, I absolutely did, but I didn’t have the energy for this today.  I groaned again, beginning to feel a bit sorry for myself but fortunately was saved from stressing out about it by falling asleep.  

When I woke, I could hear the shower running upstairs.  I got up to give my face a quick wash in the downstairs bathroom, scraped my hair up into a knot and was back on the sofa when Ben came down, pulling his suit jacket on.  He sat with me and gave me the once over.

“How are you feeling?”

I shrugged, “I’m O.K.  Not any worse at least.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go out and I’d cancel if I could but everyone else’s schedules are as packed as mine right now.  It’d be hell trying to find another time that works for us all and,” he took my hand, “it’s practically impossible to fit in a meeting during the day while I’m rehearsing.  I don’t know what time I’ll be back, we usually get talking and run long.  Will you be alright on your own?”

I grimaced, “I won’t be on my own.  Charlie’s on his way over.”

His eyes lit up, “You’re going to start looking for your dress?”

His enthusiasm made me smile, “Yes.  Although our decision to get married so soon is something of an inconvenience as far as Charlie is concerned.” 

Ben laughed and I said, “Apparently, he could use a few more months.”

“He’s not getting any more time; he’ll simply have to work it out because I’m marrying you as soon as possible.  Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead, spare no expense and any other clichés you can think of.”

I leaned in, smelling verbena soap on his skin and kissed him, “I do love you.”

“I can’t imagine any reason you wouldn’t,” he said. “Would you like me to make you something to eat before I go?”

“No, I’ve still got two containers of soup to get through; I’ll heat one up later.” Coughing, I sat up, touching the arm of his shirt, “I don’t think I’ve seen this before.”

“It’s new.  Do you like it?”

“It fits nicely but I think red looks better on you when your hair is darker.” 

He ran his fingers through his still damp curls, “I thought you liked my real colour.”

I wished I hadn’t said anything, hoping I hadn’t hurt his feelings.

“I do, I love you auburn.”

“Just not in red.” He clarified.

“There are better colours,” I said apologetically and tried to make him laugh when I continued, “but wear whatever you like; I’m not going to be there to look at you.”

He stood, pulling his jacket off, “I’ll go change.”

“You don’t have to.  It’s not terrible, just not my favourite.”

“I do have to because now I’ll be self-conscious, thank you very much.”

“Vanity, thy name is Benedict.” I grinned.

He told me to shut up as he ran up the stairs and he was back a few minutes later, half undressed and carrying two shirts on hangers, “Which one?”

I pointed and he put on the shirt I’d chosen, tucking it in and putting his jacket back on before sitting with me again.

“Does this meet with your approval?”

“Yes.  Your eyes are doing that mutant thing; they’ve gone green,” I observed with a sigh.  “God you’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you my love, even if your sucking up is utterly transparent.  Now, I’ve got to run but shall I bring you dessert?”

“Yes please.”

“Chocolate cake or crème brulee maybe?”

“Hmm, I don’t know.  I wouldn’t mind a piece of what that shirt is covering up.” I said, sliding my hand up his thigh.

His eyes softened as he looked at me and he bent over to press his lips to mine, “It’s a good thing you’re sick,” he said “or I’d definitely be late for my meeting.”

“I’m not that sick.”

I tried to give him a come-hither look but failed miserably when I interrupted it with a round of hacking that made my eyes water and my nose run.  He passed me a tissue.

“What was it you were saying?”

I wiped my eyes, “That you should go or you’ll be late.”

The door buzzer went.  Ben kissed me on the forehead and got up to let Charlie in on his way out.  I heard their voices as they passed in the stairway and Charlie breezed in, laden with bags which he dropped on the floor beside the coffee table.

“First things first, let me see.” He demanded, holding his hand out for mine.

I raised my hand and he took it, bringing it close to his face.  He turned my hand from side to side, peering over the top of his glasses and he nodded his approval.

“Very nice indeed.  Unusual too; you don’t see marquis cut diamonds that often any more but the shape works well with the leaves on the band.  Who made it?”

I looked at him blankly, “I haven’t the foggiest.  All I know is, it was his grandmother’s and he had it re-set in the new band.”

“I’ll have to remember to ask him who his jeweler is; it’s beautiful work.”  Sitting, he said, “I’ve brought you something to eat and it’s still hot so let’s get the food out of the way and get down to business.”

“Yay!” I’d had mostly tea and soup for 2 days and was looking forward to eating something I had to chew, “What’d you bring me?”

He reached into one of the bags and offered me a container, “Chicken soup!  The world’s best cold medicine.  What?  What’s that face?”

“It’s my ‘oh great, more soup’ face.  Or it would be, if that didn’t make me seem ungrateful.”

“I see.  So it wasn’t an original idea then?”

“Unfortunately not.” I leaned forward, trying to look into his shopping bag, “There wouldn’t by any chance be a steak or something in that bag, would there?”

He smacked at my hand, “Eat your soup, you bloody ingrate.  It’s good for you.”

We grinned at each other and I tucked in with more enthusiasm than I felt, especially since I was quite jealous of the roast beef sandwich he was inhaling as he told me how his romantic weekend away had gone completely pear shaped.

“I should have known, given how it started.  I was so excited the night before, I had trouble falling asleep and then I managed to sleep right through my alarm.  At least I was mostly packed so I was only a few minutes late to collect Andy.  We put his case in the boot, got in, and my fucking car wouldn’t start.  Well, I couldn’t just leave it because I was double parked and blocking half the street so I called a tow truck and we sat there being honked at and sweating over how long it was taking and I just knew we were going to miss our train.”

I loved Charlie’s stories.  They were broad and dramatic and even if he did embellish the details, hugely entertaining.  I knew I wouldn’t be likely to get a question in until he was done, so I sat back and listened, trying not to inhale my soup when I laughed.

“We waved good bye to my car as it went off to the garage and finally got a cab and wouldn’t you know it?  Missed our train by minutes.  I’m trying desperately not to go spare and to keep it together so Andy will think I’m all terribly cool and capable under pressure, but I’m sweating until I’m able to get us tickets for a later train.  I took him for coffee and pastries at that pretty little bistro by the station, apologizing the whole while and 2 hours later, we’re off.  After what feels like simply days packed into a train car full of knitting grannies with very sharp elbows and bored children picking their noses at us, we arrive in the village and all I want now is a shower and an enormous glass of wine.  Taxi, get to the bed and breakfast and Andy’s all, ‘Charlie, isn’t it lovely?’ and I’m just relieved that it looks as good in person as it did on the website.  Then - you won’t believe this - they can’t find our reservation.  I’m not even joking, and now I’m searching through my phone for the email confirmation and I’m starting to think I’d rather be anywhere else when they find the rezzo.  And it’s for the following goddamned Saturday.”

“Oh Charlie, you’re not serious!”

“I wish I weren’t darling, believe me.  Of course they’re completely booked out, not a room to be had but they were ever so sweet and offered to call around and help us find somewhere.  But, here’s the topper, there’s a pipe band competition going on, so they’re not hopeful.”

I snorted with laughter, picturing Charlie’s face when he found out his dirty weekend was going to be conducted to a background of bagpipe music.

“It’s not funny.  I swear, I got a good grip on Andy’s coat, thinking he had to be heading for the door at that point.  We managed to snag what I think was the last room in town and,” he closed his eyes in pain, “I can’t even begin to describe it but just think orange and 1977 and I think you’ll have an idea.  And dear Andy, do you know what he said?  ‘I’ve always adored retro.  Now let’s go have a drink.’  He’s so patient and easy-going and up for anything, he just went with it.”

“So, your polar opposite then?”

“Fuck off.  O.K. so, we go out and everywhere we turn it’s kilts and beards and great huge drunken conventioneers lurching through the streets spraying lager on each other and playing dueling bagpipes and here’s us thinking the worst – that on top of everything else, we’re probably going to get thumped before we can even get a drink and so much for our first holiday together.  Anyway, we duck into the nearest pub we can find and I’m half afraid to be seen drinking wine instead of beer and, you would have died!  Inside half an hour we’ve been adopted as honourary mascots of the band that would only go on to win the entire competition, I’m doing tequila shots with the drum section and Andy’s standing on a table getting a bagpipe lesson!” He sat back with a satisfied smile.

“Sweet Jesus, please tell me there’s video.”

“There is but it’s on Andy’s phone so you’d better be well enough to go to Alice’s show on Friday because he’s coming with me.  Best weekend of my life.  I think I’m in love.”

“With Andy or the bagpipes?”

Giggling, he slapped me on the leg, “And I think the entire band have friended me on Facebook.”

He got up, cleared our dishes, poured himself a glass of wine and me some juice and dumped a pile of magazines onto the coffee table.

“Now Kai,” he said, sounding frighteningly parental, “I’m well aware what it’s like to shop with you but do try to keep in mind that I’m only trying to help.”

I nodded.

“Wedding dresses aren’t like anything you’ve bought before and they don’t fit like anything you’ve ever worn either.”

“Does it have to be an actual wedding dress?  I mean, couldn’t we just look for a regular dress that…”

The look on his face was enough to tell me I wasn’t getting off that easily.  He carried on as though I hadn’t interrupted him.

“We can go through these magazines and get some idea of what you do and don’t like but we will have to go and try on different styles to see what works on your body.  It’s going to take at least a day.  You will sweat and swear at me and maybe even cry and I will be the very soul of patience and keep your glass of champagne full the whole time because I am a very, very good friend.  You’re going to hate the entire process, of that I have no doubt, but you will get the dress you want.  Are we clear?”

“Jesus, don’t sugar-coat it.”

“It’s the truth.  Are we clear?”

“Yes Charlie, as crystal.  I’ll hate it, you’ll have the time of your life and in the end you’ll make me look beautiful.  Why do you think I asked you?”

He smiled, his vanity soothed, “You’re already beautiful; I’ll just add the finishing touches.  Leah said you wanted her to come along too?”

“You’ll be there to keep me from going off the rails or running for the horizon.  Leah will be there to rein you in when I can’t see straight anymore and might otherwise agree to anything.”

He rolled his eyes, “As if she could stop me.  One more thing, I don’t want any more nonsense about paying me for my time.  I’ll be there on the big day to help you get dressed of course and I’ve spoken with Lisa who did your hair and make up for Tom’s premiere.  As long as we can give her an exact date soon, she thinks she should be available and that’s my wedding present to you, alright?”

I hugged him and gave him a huge smooch on the cheek, “I’ll be good Charlie, I promise.”

“No you won’t.” He looked pleased with himself, “You’ll be bloody exhausting but you still won’t be a patch on some of the divas I’ve dressed.  Scoot over next to me and let’s get to work.”

We spent the next couple of hours leafing through bridal magazines while Charlie explained what all the different terms meant and which styles he thought would probably be the most flattering on me.  As I was confronted with page after page of billowing white fabric, I tried to absorb what he was saying, to keep my eyes from glazing over long enough to really look at the pictures, to try and see past the ridiculous, overblown Disney princess-ness of it and see if there was such a thing as a wedding dress that I liked.  Being incredibly patient, Charlie took notes, asked tons of questions and after only a few magazines started to skim the pages at speed, pausing briefly now and then to show me dresses that had parts he thought would appeal to me.

“That’s certainly narrowed things down,” he commented, packing up his gear, “I think every dress you approved of was vintage.  I am a bit surprised; I wouldn’t have pegged you for lace.”

I stretched and yawned, “I wouldn’t have either if you’d asked me before we started.  I don’t mind a bit of sparkle but I can’t picture myself in any of the shiny or poufy ones.  With boobs and an ass like mine, I’d look like a meringue.  That’s the other reason I don’t want white.”

Slipping his coat on, Charlie agreed, “Ivory or a very pale colour like gold or even pink would work better with your hair and skin anyway.  It’s going to take me a couple of days to get us an appointment at the shop I’m thinking of and I’ll check with Leah to make sure she’s free, then I’ll let you know where and when, alright?”

“That’s fine with me and thank you for this Charlie.  Do you mind letting yourself out?  I’m too tired to get up.”

He patted me on the head on his way out and I lay down with visions of ball gowns and taffeta dancing in my head but fortunately, not for long.  I was so beat I crashed and I didn’t even hear Ben come in, was barely aware of being carried upstairs and only stirred enough to talk when he got into bed and put his arms around me.

“What time is it?” I asked groggily.

“It’s late,” he whispered, stroking my hair, “how did the dress hunting go?”

I exhaled with a grunt, “About as fluffy as I was expecting.”

His breath was warm on my shoulder as he laughed.

“How was your meeting?”

“It was fine.  Go back to sleep my love, and I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

When he came downstairs in the morning, I was making him breakfast.

“Coffee’s ready,” I said, “and your eggs will be done in a minute.”

“Your voice still sounds pretty rough, but you’re obviously feeling better.”

“Much improved, I had a really good sleep.  Here,” I passed him the plate of toast and turned to take the eggs off the heat, “can you put this on the table?”

As we ate he filled me in on his meeting with Mark, Stephen and Sue, Martin and both of their agents.  He was excited about the new season and after saying he knew I could keep a secret, started to tell me what they had planned.  I stuck my fingers in my ears and started saying ‘la-la-la’, loudly, which brought him up short.

“Don’t say anything!”

He looked at me as though I had a screw loose, “It’s not as though you’re going to tell anyone.”

I returned the look he’d given me, “No you muppet, not because I’ll tell, because I don’t want to know anything before I see it.”

He chuckled, “I thought you might get a kick from having a little inside information.  You have said you like the show.”

“I don’t _like_ it, I love it.  That show is the reason why, before we met, I had a crush on you.” 

I froze, wondering if this was the first time I’d admitted that to him.

“Are you blushing?”

I looked away, flustered, “Either that or my fever’s back.”

“When we were in New Orleans you did say you were my biggest fan, but I thought you were just…” he was watching me, his eyes bright with amusement.

“Just what?”

“Taking the piss actually.  I remember Jeremy saying something once about the two of you watching them all back to back but I thought he was joking.”

I hid my face in my hands, “No.  Not joking.”

“And you like me with my hair longer.”

“Longer, shorter, doesn’t matter…” I dwindled off, at a loss for words for once.

He reached across the table for my hand, “Kai, you don’t have to be embarrassed, I think it’s wonderful.  Unless,” his eyes narrowed, “you don’t by any chance have any, uh, Sherlock-based fantasies, do you?”

“Oh god no!  No, my fantasies are all firmly Ben,” I grinned, “or Benedict based.”

He watched me, his thumb swirling slowly over the back of my hand, “Are you quite sure?”

“Please believe me when I tell you that I was never attracted to the character, only to the actor playing him.  In your version, he’s a sociopath and while I might find him intellectually intriguing, in real life I couldn’t be with someone that self-centred and judgmental.  Besides,” I chuckled, “Sherlock would be a terrible lay.  Waaay too clinical and detached and squeamish to appeal to me.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely; sexually he wouldn’t be my type at all.”

“I see.  You have a type, do you?”

I went around the table and sat on his lap.  Pressing my fingers to his soft lips, I traced the curve of his cupid’s bow, “You’re certainly not squeamish; you’re curious and adventurous, willing to try anything.  You’re devoted.  When we make love, I know that I’m all you’re thinking about, that your entire being is focused on me.  You’re intense and being with you physically is totally overwhelming, in the very best way.  When you’re rough I feel…” His hands, hot, moving on my back distracted me and I paused to think, “I know you can’t get enough of me, you can’t help yourself.  It’s exciting and seductive and,” I smiled, “in an odd way it’s a relief because that’s how I feel about you and I can’t imagine what it would be like to feel that and not have you reciprocate.  And when you’re gentle with me, when you take your time, showing me what I mean to you, I feel as though no one has ever been loved the way you love me.  That’s what type you are.  And you’re all mine.”

He kissed my throat, nipped his way up my jaw to my mouth and kissed me properly for the first time in days.  Well, since I’d caught this cold which was three days ago but felt like forever.  I hung on to him, sank my fingers into his hair and when he finally sat back, I dropped my head to his shoulder so I could nuzzle his neck.

“I wonder if I could get away with calling in sick for the day.” He said.

“You wouldn’t like it.  You think it’s going to be fun, playing hooky but it’s not.  It’s boring sitting around doing nothing.”

“I wouldn’t be doing nothing; I’d be doing you.”  He shifted me to one side, trying to ease the pressure on his groin.

“So you’d be calling in thick?” I lisped.

He snorted and I ducked my head as my laughter turned into coughing.  I cleared my throat and said, “Anyway, don’t pretend.  We both know you wouldn’t miss rehearsal if you were in a full body cast.”

“I suppose you’re right.  O.K., get off me before I change my mind.”

He got up to find his shoes while I cleared the table and when he was ready I followed him to the door to say goodbye.   He took me in his arms and smiled into my eyes.

“Before we met, I didn’t think I had a type,” he said, “but I do and there’s only one of you.”

“You’d better hold on tight because you’ve just made me weak in the knees.  I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too.  Good thing I found you and figured out how to keep you.”

“Keep me?  Don’t get ahead of yourself Cumberbatch, it’s early days yet.” I mocked.

He raised my left hand to his lips, kissing my ring finger, “Not even six months and I’ve nearly got you locked down already.  I’m feeling confident.”

With a roll of my eyes, I pushed him out the door and shut it behind him.  I did the dishes, had a long bath and thought about lying down and trying to sleep but instead found myself getting dressed in real clothes. 

Myra had been holding down the fort at work and I’d only had a couple of short emails from her about things she needed a bit of guidance with but I had serious cabin fever.  There was nothing I wanted to watch on T.V., my book held no interest and I was sick of naps.  I found my car keys, popped a couple of cold tablets and headed to the office.  By the time I arrived, having dealt with traffic and trying to time my coughing fits for red lights, I was already starting to think I’d misjudged my energy level and might have made a mistake going in.  Myra looked up as the bell over the door tinkled, surprise registering on her face.

“Have I done something wrong?” she asked.

“No, of course not.”

“Then why are you here?  You don’t sound like you’re better.”

I went straight to the coffee maker, “I was sick of lying around, I need to be doing something.”

“You should have been more insistent in your last email.  I have three estimates to write up and you could have done those from home.  If I’m honest, you’re as pale as a ghost.  You really should be in bed.”

I leaned against the cabinet and took a sip of my coffee, “Thank you Myra,” I said sweetly, “but I’ve had quite enough mothering from Ben and I had to get out of the house.  I’ll only stay a couple of hours.  I need to get home before he does anyway or there’ll be hell to pay.  Give me the notes for those estimates and I’ll get started.”

I let Myra take all the phone calls and tried to keep conversation to a minimum because talking still made me cough and before long I began to notice that every time I did, Myra, no matter what else she was doing, took a pump from the bottle of anti-bacterial lotion on her desk and vigorously rubbed her hands together.  I finished the third estimate and emailed it to the client before shutting my laptop.

“If all three of these jobs go through, scheduling’s going to get tight for a bit.” I said to her.

“I know.  You’re not the only one who’s had to take sick days and I was thinking the same thing.”

I drummed my fingers on my desk, “We’re going to need more gardeners.  I think we could probably get away with a couple of part-timers for now.  There’s a website we use for hiring; I’ll write up the postings and send them in before the weekend.”

I coughed into my hand and Myra squirted lotion into her palm.

“Am I making you nervous?” I put my elbows on my desk, smiling.

“Whatever do you mean?”

I nodded at the bottle on her desk, “Every time I cough.” I clarified.

She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest, “I have this job, a home to take care of, meals to shop for and prepare and a husband and two teenagers who I don’t want to infect with whatever it is you’re spreading around by being here.  I can’t afford to get sick, especially when you already are and I’m doing my best to cover things while you’re off, so if you must know, yes Typhoid Mary, you’re making me a little uncomfortable.”

Tucking my face into the crook of my elbow as I laughed and coughed, I knew she was right.  It wasn’t fair of me to be here and risk passing along whatever I had.  I got up and slipped my jacket on.

“Message received and I appreciate your candour.  Are you able to cover the rest of the week?”

“I can juggle some things around.”

“Alright then, since everything is clearly under control here and it’s not as though I don’t have enough to keep me busy with wedding plans, I’ll see you next Monday, if that works for you.”

“Well now I feel bad.  You said you only came in because you were bored.”

I grinned over my shoulder as I reached the door, “Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly.  I should have been taking better advantage of my free time so that’s what I’m going to do.  You know how to reach me if you need anything.”

I waved as the door slowly swung shut behind me.  Sitting in my car, I turned my phone on and cringed at the number of texts from Ben, the last of which said, _‘Where are you?  I’m starting to worry.’_

I sent, _‘’Popped into the office for a couple of hours.  On my way home now.’_

I yawned and waited, but when there was no reply after a couple of minutes, figured he was busy and backed out of my parking spot, planning to drive fast and be back on the sofa in my pajamas before he got home.  The truth was, I shouldn’t have gone to work and not only because of the reasons Myra had listed but because I felt ten times worse on the drive home than I had earlier and was regretting my rash decision.  Driving up our street, I groaned; the lights were on in the flat and Ben’s car was in the drive.  I dragged myself up the stairs and let myself in, calling out a falsely cheerful greeting as I did.  As I was hanging my coat in the closet, he came down the hall.

“Went to work did you?” He asked calmly.

I nodded and kicked my boots into the closet before looking up at him.

“So you’re cured then?” He put his back against the wall, leaning casually, “Feeling a million and completely over it?”

I could have tried to bluff but I simply didn’t have the energy and anyway, he would have seen right through me as usual.  Taking a step closer, I put my arms around him and pressed my face to his chest.

“No.  Myra kicked me out of my own office, I’m fucking exhausted and I should have stayed in bed.  I’m sorry I worried you.”

He kissed me on the top of the head and held me, rubbing my back.  He exhaled hugely and said, “You sound absolutely defeated.  I can’t even shout at you like I was planning.  Think you can make it up the stairs on your own?”

“Maybe.”

He chuckled, “Give it a go then, upstairs and have a lie down.  I’m cooking supper.”

“Please tell me it isn’t soup.”

“It isn’t soup.”

“Good, I’ve eaten nothing but soup for days.” I looked up at him, “I need something I can sink my teeth into.”

He looked dubious, “Was that meant to be flirtatious?  You can barely keep your eyes open and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can’t imagine trying to have sex with you right now.”

I just managed to turn my head to the side before sneezing several times in a row.  I blinked at him through watery eyes.

I faked a pout, “You don’t find me attractive anymore.”

His lips twitched as he tried not to laugh at me, “My love, I do and I always will but you falling asleep mid-coitus would be more than my fragile ego could take.  Go to bed and I’ll wake you when supper’s ready.”

I hauled myself up to the bedroom where Ben found me an hour later, passed out fully clothed across the bed with my feet hanging off the edge.  I felt quite chipper after some sleep and got up to quickly change my clothes and join him back downstairs to see what he’d cooked. 

“Oh god that smells good.” I inhaled the fragrant air from the kitchen.

“You can smell it?  That’s a good sign, hopefully you’ll be able to taste it too.”

“What is it?”

“Pork roast crusted with every herb in the cupboard, baked sweet potatoes and steamed broccoli with plenty of butter.” He said proudly.

He decided we’d eat in the sitting room and waited until I was settled on the couch to balance a tray on my lap.

“What, no dessert?”

“I brought you a slice of lemon cheesecake with blackberries last night but you were asleep when I got home so you can have it tonight, if you eat all your supper.”

I tucked in and was thrilled that I could, mostly, taste it.  He’d done a wonderful job, the roast juicy and flavourful and the veggies done perfectly.  I finished everything on my plate and even stole a piece of his broccoli for good measure then put the tray on the coffee table and fell back on the sofa to wait for him to finish. 

“Ready for dessert?” He asked, putting his plate on the tray with mine.

I stretched, “I don’t know if I could now actually, I think I ate too much.”

As he left the room to take the tray to the kitchen I told him to leave the dishes for me to do tomorrow.  Sated and happy, I pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa and closed my eyes, listening to him putting leftovers away and scraping plates but quickly opened them when he sat down beside me.  We smiled at each other and he rested his hand on my belly.

“Still too full for cake?”

“I might be able to manage one bite, just a taste.”

He’d turned off all the overhead lights leaving the room lit only by the standing lamp in the far corner.  The soft light threw shadows across his face, highlighting the sharpness of his cheekbones, the line of his jaw and I unconsciously licked my lips, not thinking at all about cheesecake.

“Ben?”

“Yes?”

“I won’t fall asleep, I promise.”

I thought he’d laugh and though the lines at the corners of his eyes deepened for a moment, his face remained serious and for me, that was enough to raise goosebumps on my flesh.  I knew he was waiting for permission.

“You know how you’ve been bossing me around since I’ve been sick?”

“Mm-hmm.” He acknowledged.

“I think I’m going to need you to do something about that.”

His eyes remained locked on mine when he stood, towering over me, “Take your t-shirt off.”

I pulled it over my head.

“Bra too.” He said, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

I reached behind my back to unhook the clasp, slipped the bra off and it joined my shirt on the floor.  He walked to the end of the sofa, cool air breezing over my naked skin as he passed.  Behind me, he ran his finger down my spine, barely making contact but I shivered and let my head drop forward.

“Hands behind your head.” He said sharply.

I could hear the silky sound of fabric moving but I didn’t know what he was doing until he wrapped his shirt, twisted like a rope, around my wrists and tied it.  His fingers slid inside the cloth, checking that it wasn’t too tight and he held my hands, bound, in his as he bent to press his lips to the nape of my neck then undid the barrette that secured my hair, letting it fall down my back.

Taking me by the shoulders, he shoved me down against the pillow before stalking around the couch to my feet.  He leaned over, grabbed the waistband of my pajamas and yanked them down and off in one motion, the force of it pulling me flat onto my back with a gasp.  In the low light, his eyes lingered on my body and he unbuttoned his jeans, sliding his hand inside and he watched me, watched as my lips parted and I swallowed, following the way his hand moved, knowing how it felt to hold him and feel him harden for me.  He pushed his jeans down and stepping out of them, moved onto the sofa to kneel between my legs, sitting back on his feet.  His cock jutted from his body and he wrapped his fingers around it, stroking his full length.  I raised one leg, sliding my calf along his hip and his other hand came down on my thigh with a slap.  It stung and I jerked my leg away in surprise.

“Don’t move, understand?  No touching.”

“Benedict…”

“Be quiet.” His voice could have cut glass, “The only thing I want to hear from you is yes or no.  Otherwise, you’re not to make a sound until I tell you to.”

He knew it would be next to impossible for me to stay silent, the man could make me moan with a whisper in my ear.  I looked at him imploringly and he gazed back at me without a hint of sympathy.  His hand had never stopped moving on his erection and now he was completely hard, standing up thick and my toes curled at the sight, in anticipation.  Suddenly, he dropped forward, planting his hands on either side of me and, curling his back, he dragged his cock down my belly, the contact like a trail of fire on my skin.  Reaching my mound, he paused, staring into my eyes like he was daring me to disobey his instructions.  He slid down my body, pressing the tip of his shaft against my slit.  Closing my eyes, I forced myself not to move and he held me there, frozen until I gave in and looked at him.  He pushed against me, I inhaled sharply and he slowly shook his head ‘no’, pulling back further so he could lie on top of me, his chest pressing my hips firmly onto the sofa.  I held completely still and waited, nearly holding my breath, not wanting to give him another excuse to make me wait any longer.  He reached for something on the table.

“Open your mouth.” He said, his deep voice vibrating through me.

His finger slid between my lips and I tasted sugar and lemons and barely managed not to laugh, sucking the cheesecake from his finger.

“Is it good?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like more?” He asked, running his wet finger over my lips.

“Yes.” I whispered.

He fed me again, watching my lips close around his finger but the next time, instead of making his way to my mouth, he smeared the sticky cake over my breast.  He stretched, slowly coming closer and his tongue darted out, swiping through the sugary mess, licking me clean.  His teeth closed on my nipple and a delicious shiver ran through me.  Picking up a larger piece of the cake, he painted me with it and raised his hand, pushing his sticky fingers into my mouth, sliding them in and out against my tongue until all traces of sweetness were gone.   Lifting his weight off me he nipped the cake from my body, his teeth scraping my flesh until my breathing grew ragged.  He worked his way lower, his mouth teasing along my ribcage and without thinking, I arched my back to get closer to him.  His lips parted and he sank his teeth into the meat of my hip.  I squeaked in shock as the pain bloomed.  He looked at the spot he’d bitten, then up at me.

“Don't you fucking move unless I tell you to." He hissed, "Or do you need another reminder?”

“No.” 

My voice was still hoarse from coughing and for a moment I saw concern, could see his resolve waver.  I wanted him to keep going, needed, after all the care and attention he’d given me this week, to give him what only I could.  Knowing exactly what I was doing, I spoke.

“I’ll be good.”

His eyes went slitty, dark and dangerous looking, “I don’t think you were paying attention,” he snarled, “I told you, yes or no only.  If you can’t keep quiet on your own, I’ll do it for you.”

Sliding his arms under me, he sat up, lifting me with him.  He turned to the side, spread his legs and leaned back.

“Get on your knees.”

My knees pressed into his thigh and I and leaned forward, turning my head to the side and licking his shaft like an ice cream cone.  I inhaled deeply, my abdominal muscles contracting as the scent of him made my mouth water.  I tried to get in a better position but with my hands tied behind my head, my balance was off and I didn’t move quickly enough for him.

“Stop fucking around and open your mouth.” He growled, folding his hand around my wrists.

The edge in his voice made me weak, the dominant, demanding side of my usually gentle, loving and generous Ben making my heart thump in my chest.  I pressed my lips to his cock, opened my mouth to breathe and he pushed my head down, his fingers clenching painfully in my hair.  I sucked, lips tight around his girth and tried to raise my head, to move up.  He didn’t let me, held me where I was and giving me only a moment, he slowly eased my head lower.  He urged me to take as much of him as I could and I concentrated, determined to give him what he wanted and needing it as badly as he did. 

He bumped the back of my throat and when I gagged he waited, letting me catch my breath but this time, it was me who pushed.  I felt him slide deeper, relaxed and heard his voice, my name a sweet groan on his lips.  I squeezed my thighs together; I was wet and aching for him but right now, his needs came before mine.  His muscles flexed and when he started thrusting into my throat, I could feel his cock throbbing on my tongue.  I forced myself to stay quiet, listening to his excitement, his harsh breathing and the soft liquid sound of my mouth moving on his cock.

“Oh Christ, stop.”

Suddenly, he was dragging me off him, his hands clumsy and frantic as he tried to untie me, to pull my body to his and get us both onto the floor all at the same time.  As my back hit the wood, his arm flew out, shoving the coffee table out of our way and then his mouth was on mine, tongue jabbing between my lips.  Wrapping my legs around him, straining upward, no longer waiting for permission to move I reached down and took him in my hand, guiding him inside me.  He sank into me, filled me completely and he raised his head to watch my face as he pulled all the way out and drove himself forward.  I bit off my gasp and his face softened.

“Let me hear you Kai, let me hear how it feels.”

His hands grasped my legs, raising them to his shoulders so I was bent almost in half.  He let his weight rest on me and pulled out again, leaving me empty.

“Ben please,” I pleaded, “I want you.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you inside me.” I took his face in my hands, “I need to feel you to lose control.”

He sighed, “As if you leave me any choice, my love.”  

He rolled his hips, pressing his full length into me and I moaned my approval.  We went slowly at first, savouring the sensations of our bodies so perfectly matched, moving as one until he bit the inside of his lip and I could see he was trying to hold off, wanting to bring me with him.  I slid my legs back down around him, pressing my heels into the muscles of his bum, forcing him to go faster.  I flexed, tightening for him and he buried his face in my neck, wrapping his arms around me, his breath hot on my skin.

“Oh Jesus…”

“Let go Ben, for me.”

I didn’t have to ask again.  He thrashed his hips, pounding himself into me and I closed my eyes as his guttural groans got louder.  His hands went to my hips, lifting me so he could go deeper and I dug my fingers into his back, whispering in his ear, telling him over and over that I loved him.  He cried out, body going rigid with spasm and he collapsed, shuddering on top of me.  I smiled and took his face in my hands so I could reach his mouth, kissing him again and again until he’d caught his breath enough to speak. ~~~~

“The floor is fucking freezing.”

I started to laugh, “I didn’t even notice until you pointed it out, but yes, it is.”

He fumbled around until he located the blanket, pulling it over us and rolling over so I was lying on him, warm in his arms.  We were quiet for a long time until I folded my hands on his chest, balancing my chin on them.  He glanced at me.

“Are you O.K?”

“I’m so much better than O.K.”

“I sort of lost the plot there for a bit.  Did you come?”

I smiled and suppressed a yawn, “No.”

“Give me a minute and I’ll remedy that.”

“It’s alright Ben, I don’t need anything right now.  I feel wonderful.”

He grinned at me and stifling a yawn himself, asked if I was sure.

“It’s no trouble at all,” he said, “it doesn’t usually take me very long.”

I kissed his chest as I lay tired and heavy on him, “Unless I fall asleep.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I might.” I admitted, barely able to keep my eyes open.

We got off the floor and he insisted, despite my protests, on carrying me up to bed.  We were curled together, my head on his chest as he lazily tickled my back with his fingertips and I was almost asleep when he brought it up again.  

“It feels wrong,” his voice was serious, “particularly given the way we started.  I feel like you should at least have gotten an orgasm out of it.”

“You don’t owe me anything, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Maybe not ‘owe’ as such, but...on reflection, tonight felt very one-sided, like I took and you got nothing back.”

His words startled me into wakefulness and I raised myself on my elbow, “You’re being ridiculous, I got exactly what I wanted.  You’ve been taking care of me all week, making sure every need I had was met.”

“It doesn’t seem right to me...”

I interrupted him, placing my hand on his cheek to make sure he was paying attention, “You’re not hearing me.  I’m telling you, I didn’t need to come.  Tonight, it was my turn to take care of you, to let you take what you needed.  That’s enough, sometimes.”

He thought about it, but something was still weighing on him.

“I was hard on you.  More than usual.”

“So?”

“I’m wondering if I said or did something that put you off, if that’s why you didn’t come.”  He exhaled, frustrated, “Sometimes I don’t even realize what I’m saying, what’s coming out of my mouth when I’m like that and when I play it back in my head later, I find myself wondering why you let me talk to you that way.”

“It’s sex Ben and we say things during sex that we would probably never say any other time.  We let our guard down, we don’t censor or monitor our thoughts, we just let them out.  If there were a ‘reason’ I didn’t come, it sure as hell wasn’t because you did anything wrong.  And, I let you talk to me that way because it makes me hot.”

“But why?  Why does it?”

“Oh Ben, I don’t know.  Because it’s so different from the usual you, the intellectual, thoughtful, polite you?  It’s your animal side, your lizard brain and maybe because I’m the only one who gets to see it, because I’m the one who can bring out that part of you, it makes me feel powerful.”

“I’m nasty and disrespectful and that makes you feel powerful?” he asked skeptically.

“You’re never nasty, you’ve never humiliated or belittled me.  You’re controlling and domineering and sexy as fuck.”  While it upset me that he was doubting himself when he'd done exactly what I'd asked of him tonight, I was also getting annoyed, “And you need to ask yourself one goddamn question.  Have I ever stopped you?”

“No.”

“Right.  And do you think I wouldn’t stop you in a fucking heartbeat if I wasn’t getting off on it?  Have I ever struck you as the kind of woman who would just lie there and take it if you were being horrible to me?  Get a grip.  Do you know what I felt tonight, when I was holding you in my arms and you were shaking and sweaty and too shattered to move?  Triumph Ben.  When I can do that to you it’s the greatest feeling in the world and if you think for a second that I want it to stop, you’re out of your fucking mind.”

His eyes were wide open and slowly, a smile brightened his face, “Oh.  Well, that’s alright then.”

I stared back at him.

“I tell you all that and that’s your response? ‘That’s alright then?’”  I dropped my head back to his chest with a thump, “Cumberbatch, you’re going to drive me to drink.”

“Can I have a goodnight kiss?”

“No, go to sleep.”

I delighted in the sound of his laughter and fell asleep with a smile on my face.

The next morning, I didn’t say anything to Ben but I could tell I’d overdone it the day before.  Although I was nearly over my cold, I tired quickly, my body working hard to cure itself.  I slept and lolled around and forced myself go through a couple of the magazines Charlie had left, dog-earing the odd page when I saw something that didn’t make me gag.  I was lying on my back imagining shapes in the plaster lines on the ceiling when my phone rang with a tune I hadn’t heard in a couple of weeks. 

I sat up and answered, “Hello Tom, are you home?”

“Got back on Monday.  Do you know, I long for the old days, prior to call display, when there was an air of mystery to a ringing phone.”

“As if you’re old enough to remember a time before call display.  Or personalized ring tones.”

“I am, just about.  Right then, what plays when I call?”

“’The theme song of a certain blue bear, what else?”

His bark of laughter brought a smile to my face and he said, “I spoke with Ben this morning and he said you’ve been ill.  I have to say, you sound simply terrible.”

“Well, that’s good.  I’d hate to think I felt this shitty and sounded fine.”

I held the phone away from my mouth as I started coughing and reached for the cough medicine, taking a slug directly from the bottle.

“Ouch.” Tom commented, “Look, I’ve got the day off and wondered if you needed anything.  I’m out picking up a few things and I’m practically right around the corner.”

Surveying the piles of supplies on the coffee table I said, “Ben’s got pretty much every need looked after and you’re sweet to offer but unless you could get a circus or something over here to entertain me, nothing comes to mind.”

“You’re bored?”

“Oh god yes.  Myra, who runs my office won’t even send me any work to do.  I think Ben got to her.”

He laughed again, “I wouldn’t put it past him.  He made it sound like you were at death’s door.”

“Dying of boredom maybe but honestly, it’s just a cold and I’ll be fine in another day or two.”

He hummed for a second then said, “I have an idea…I’m coming over.”

“No Tom, it’s good of you to offer but you really don’t have to, I might still be contagious.”

“Never mind that, I’ve the constitution of an ox.  See you in half an hour.”

He hung up before I could protest again and I hauled myself off the sofa to tidy up a bit, both the sitting room and myself.  It was pretty useless trying to make myself look presentable; I was still very pale and had great dark circles under my eyes but I certainly wasn’t going to bother with makeup.  I changed into a fresh t-shirt and sweat pants and went back down to put the kettle on.

I was carrying the tray from the kitchen when the bell went and I ran back to buzz Tom in.  He arrived at the door with his arms full of a mess of cables and a gaming system.

“Fancy shooting some zombies?” he asked with a happy grin.

“What?”

He pushed past me, heading for the television, “Great fun and an excellent way to let off a little steam.  You look like hell by the way.”

Shutting the door and trailing behind him I said sourly, “Thanks a lot.  You couldn’t have lied?”

“Not in my nature, sorry.  Oh tea!  Pour me a cuppa while I set this up.  Milk, no sugar, please.”

I made our tea while he plugged the system in, turned the T.V. on, dropped the controllers on the table and sat down.

“So,” he took a sip of tea, “I hear you’re getting married.”

“Nonsense.  Where would you have heard such a thing?”

“Seventeen newspapers and as of this morning, straight from the groom’s mouth.” He looked up from his cup with a wide smile, “It better be true; he’s asked me to be his best man and I do love a good wedding.”

I groaned, “What is it with you guys and weddings?  I think Ben’s been planning for this since he hit puberty while I’m having trouble even wrapping my head around the concept of being a bride, never mind being someone’s wife.”

“I know I’m generalizing but don’t a lot of girls - or women I should say - visualize what it’ll be like to get married?  Just going by my sisters and their friends, I had to play act as ring-bearer about a thousand times growing up.”

Grinning at the picture he painted I said, “Not this girl.”

Settling back on the sofa, I gave Tom the Cliff’s Notes of my own views on marriage, the how and why of how I’d come to think the way I did.  I told him about my parents, about my talk with Wanda and explained why I thought my relationship with Ben had made me change my mind.

“So you see, it’s not that I don’t want to Ben to be my husband it’s that the process of getting to that point is totally alien to me.  So much of it seems ridiculous and unnecessary.  And expensive; the second you put the word ‘bridal’ on anything, the price doubles and philosophically that pisses me off.”

Tom’s eyes were wide with amazement, “But you’re completely missing the point!  You asked what it is about weddings that ‘us guys’ get excited about and that’s easy – it’s the romance of it.  It’s a day entirely devoted to two people shouting to the world that they’ve found each other and can’t imagine living their lives without being together.” He threw his hands in the air and his voice grew in volume, “If it’s big and over-the-top splashy and excessive, well so what and who cares about the cost?  My god Kai, how many times do you plan to stand up in front of your family and friends and pledge to stay together forever?”

I barely managed to get out, “Once,” when he jumped in again.

“Once, exactly!” He leaned forward, quietly intense, “One time in your entire life when you stand with the man you love and who loves you in a way some of us can only long for and you promise your lives to each other.  What could be better than that?” He finished with a dreamy smile and a sigh.

“Somewhere out there is some poor, unsuspecting woman who you’re going to fall for,” I marveled, “and she has no idea what she’ll be letting herself in for.  You’ll sweep her right off her feet.  That was the most idealistic and adorable speech I’ve ever heard.”

 “Yes, but has it brought you ‘round to my way of thinking?”

“Maybe not entirely,” I smiled, “but I think you’re lovely to try.  Jeez, no wonder you and Ben are such good friends, you’re a matched set of starry-eyed goofballs.”  A niggling suspicion raised its head, “Did he tell you I was hesitant about some of his wedding ideas?”

“No he did not, it never came up.  He told me you weren’t feeling well and said,” He grinned devilishly and when he continued it was with Ben’s voice, “could you drop in and check on her for me?  Only don’t tell her it was my idea or she won’t let you in.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up; if my eyes had been closed, I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to tell the difference.  I folded my arms across my chest and said firmly, “Don’t do that.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” He looked quite pleased with himself.

“It’s uncanny.  Don’t do it again.”

Giggling, he reached for the teapot and refilled his cup.  When he sat up, he was frowning.

“Did you mean that, about me sweeping someone off her feet?”

“Unequivocally.  I haven’t known you long Tom, but given your enthusiasm for, well, everything, to say nothing of the way you describe getting married, I have the feeling you’re the kind of man who falls in love completely, whole-heartedly and with absolute conviction.  You’re going to make someone very, very happy one day.”

“You’re one to talk about whole-hearted and with absolute conviction.  You’re planning a wedding and you haven’t known Ben much longer than you’ve known me.  When did you meet exactly?”

“The beginning of July,” I shook my head, “So much has happened since then.  I still can’t really get over how much my life has changed.”

“So has his.  We’ve been friends for a while but I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Thank you Tom, it’s lovely of you to say so.”

“I’m not being kind, it’s the truth.  Every time I speak with him, all he wants to talk about is you.”

I smiled, “The honeymoon phase, Jem calls it.”

“Maybe,” he answered, “but the man is crazy about you.”

“I know.  And he’s the only person I’ve ever been with who’s ever made me feel this way.  I feel sorry for our friends, having to listen to us.  We must be sickening.”

“No, definitely not.  It’s wonderful to see your friend to find happiness, but it does make you aware of what’s missing in your own life.” He said wistfully, “But I try to look at it from the other side; if he can find something real, someone like you in the midst of all the craziness, then I can too.”

“Ben and I have talked a bit about before we were together, how it was for him.  I’m sure there are parts of it that seem like every teenage boy’s dream.  But, it must get old always wondering if it’s you or the image that people are interested in.  Like, are they seeing you, or the name?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about my life.  I’ve worked hard, but I’ve also had some incredible luck and I’m very, very pleased with where I am.  It’s just that when you reach a certain age, you start to see your friends moving forward, making plans,” he grinned, “growing up…when their focus changes from work to personal, you start to feel like you may be missing out on something important.”

“Like someone to share it all with? Someone to come home to?”

He nodded, “Exactly that.”

“Tom, you’re hardly in your dotage.  I mean, Jesus, Ben and I are both older than you are, and this is only happening for us now.  You have time.”

“Ah.  Yes.  But that’s the trouble with friends.  You feel as though you’ve got all the time in the world, enjoy yourself, what’s the rush?  Until you see first-hand what a difference it makes when your friend finds love.  Frankly, it’s difficult not to feel a little panicky.”

“Huh.” I gave my head a shake, “Thank you Tom.”

“What for?”

“Because, between you and me, I’ve also been feeling a little panicky.  Every time Ben and I talk about the wedding, every time someone congratulates me and asks, ‘when’s the big day?’, my heart rate ratchets up to about a thousand.”

He looked worried, “Are you having doubts?”

“Not about Ben.  Not ever about him.  But the wedding itself is scaring seven kinds of hell out of me and I’m not even sure I know exactly why.  Talking to you has helped though.  My friends are all being ridiculously supportive and helpful and I appreciate it but I can’t be sure any of them would say anything if they thought this was a bad idea.  You have nothing to gain, no reason to blow smoke up my ass so your opinion means a great deal to me.”

“You make him happy and clearly, he makes you happy.  For all I said about weddings, it’s one day in your life and it’s what comes after that really matters, so Kai?  Stop messing about, get married and get on with your lives.”

I giggled, “That’s very sound advice coming from such a youngster.  Can we shoot zombies now?”

“Alright, a quick tutorial and then I’ll kick your ass.”

I listened while he explained how the game and controls worked and watched as gentle, erudite Tom transformed into a vicious zombie hunting mercenary.  He played with his whole body, leaning from side to side and shouting like a crazed soccer hooligan as he blew the heads off the living dead.  It was hysterical and I nearly choked on a lozenge laughing at him.  He cleared the level and asked if I was ready to join in.  It took me a bit to figure out how everything worked but once I got into it, I discovered he was right.  It was oddly satisfying and tremendous fun and, it turned out, a total distraction from everything, including time.  I was cackling with glee as my character found a store of weapons and I passed Tom’s score and we had the volume up so loud that we didn’t hear the door open so we both jumped when Ben, standing directly behind us, spoke.

“And here’s me assuming you weren’t answering my texts because you were sleeping.  Had a nice quiet day then?”

I turned around, “No, we’ve been too busy saving the world from the zombie apocalypse.  Would you like a go?”

“Maybe later,” he leaned over to give me a kiss, “You know Tom, when I asked you to check on her, this wasn’t quite what I meant.”

“You didn’t ask me to check on her, you asked me to see if she needed anything and she did; entertainment.”

“I see.  How are you feeling?” He took his coat off and threw it over the back of a chair.

“I’m almost over the worst of it I think.  How was your day?”

“So far, so good.  I have something for you.”  He sat on the arm of the sofa and held out an envelope, “Louise brought it to the theatre; it came to the office today.”

I slowly took the brown envelope from his hand, looking at the government emblem printed on the front.  My hands were suddenly icy, my palms clammy.

“It’s from Immigration.” 

Tom started to get up, “I should go.”

We both answered, “No, stay,” at the same time, but Tom stood.

He put his hand on Ben’s shoulder and squeezed, “No, I’m going.  Regardless of what it says, you two should be alone for this.  Call me tomorrow.  And good luck you.” He said, planting a kiss on my cheek.

I nodded and managed to thank him and Ben walked him to the door.  He came back and sat beside me, taking my cold hands in his, the envelope sitting on my lap.

“In the end, it doesn’t matter what it says, I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“Remember what the lawyer said though…”

He interrupted, “I know, they can be sticky about marriage when you haven’t known each other for very long and it’ll be harder if your original application is turned down, blah blah blah.  It doesn’t matter.  I’ll hire more lawyers, I’ll hide you in the attic and pretend I don’t know where you are, I’ll, I’ll…” His voice cracked, “I don’t even know what I’ll do, but I won’t let anyone take you from me.  Open it.”

His words sank in and I knew how strongly he meant it but the truth was, if my application had been denied our lives were about to get a great deal more difficult.  I took a deep breath, tore the envelope and pulled out a thin stack of papers.   With my hands shaking I unfolded it, scanned for the words I needed to see while Ben read over my shoulder.  I dropped the papers in my lap and I took his face in my hands to kiss him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He leapt off the couch, shouting, “YES!  YES!”

He punched the air and shouted again then pulled me up by the hands, hugging me so hard I couldn’t breathe.  He kissed my cheeks, my forehead and my lips while we both laughed breathless and giddy with relief.

“Do you feel well enough for a glass of champagne?”

“I absolutely do.”

He opened a bottle and I poured while he lit a fire and turned off the lights.  We put my blankets from the sofa on the floor and cuddled up together.  For a long time, we just sat, sipping from our glasses in front of the fireplace in peaceful, contented silence, interrupted by occasional bouts of extremely unromantic coughing.

“Should I put another log on?” He asked when the fire started to die down.

“It’s getting late.  Have you eaten?”

He thought for a minute, “I haven’t actually.  Why don’t you go up to bed?  I’ll call for a pizza and bring it up when it gets here.”

“That sounds perfect except for the part where I’m going to bed and you’re staying down here to wait for the pizza.”

He smiled, “I want to call my Mum and Dad and tell them the good news, but then I’ll come up, O.K?  Should I just order our usual?”

“Get whatever you want,” I grinned, “I’ve had my treat for the day.”

Ben got up to find his phone while I gathered the blankets and went upstairs.  I got into bed and listened to the sound of his voice as he talked to his parents.  I was tired but still vibrating with excitement and I wondered if I’d be able to sleep at all tonight.  Ben came upstairs and was changing out of his clothes when the pizza arrived.  He grabbed his dressing gown and ran down to answer the door.

We lay in bed feeding each other pizza but I was still buzzing with the news and didn’t have much of an appetite.  I got up to put what was left in the fridge then brushed my teeth and got into bed.  Ben snuggled up to me, rubbing his calf over mine and he dropped a row of kisses across my shoulder to my throat.  I made a soft sound of encouragement, pressing my hip into him.  His arms gripped me harder and he cleared his throat.  His breath caught and I understood suddenly how hard he’d tried to be brave, to never let me see how afraid he’d been and to stay strong so I could rely on him but until now, I hadn’t realized the strain it had put him under.  I was overwhelmed with gratitude and love, holding him as he let it out, his tears trickling down my neck. 

He took a shaky breath and raised his head, trying to smile.

“Sorry.”

“For what?  Loving me?”

“I rather went to pieces there.  We should be jumping for joy and celebrating.”

“You did that; you practically shouted the house down and you don’t ever have to apologize to me for letting me see when you’re emotional.  You know that’s why I fell in love with you, right?”

“It is not.  You called me a soppy git the first time I cried in front of you.”

“I did,” I giggled at the memory, “but it was only to stop myself saying I loved you when I’d only known you five minutes.  Then you called my bluff by saying it first.”

“First and always.”

“Always Ben, and in all ways.”

 


	30. She Generally Gave Herself Very Good Advice...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai's still wrestling with wedding anxiety, Ben's still full steam ahead...let's see where this goes.
> 
>  
> 
> Updates to this story have been a bit sporadic lately so, many thanks to everyone who comes back when I do post.  
> And I also want to thank Kat, the most stellar editor/taskmaster and friend for her help, insight and encouragement on this and so many previous chapters.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 30 – She Generally Gave Herself Very Good Advice...

 

I made coffee and brought it upstairs, crawling back into our still-warm bed to wait for Ben to finish showering.  This had become one of my favourite rituals; when we were awake early and we could leave our phones off, cuddle in bed and read the newspaper together or just talk for a while before one of us had to race out the door.  He’d toweled off and now we were sitting side by side, coffee cups in hand and his arm around me when he brought up my visa having been approved.

“I still can’t quite believe it.”

He gave me a squeeze and I let my head fall to his shoulder.

“I know what you mean.  It’s been in the back of my mind, weighing on me for so long I think it’ll take a while for it to really sink in.”

He blew on his coffee and took a sip.

“Now you’re nearly over this cold of yours, do you mind if I go out after work for a bit?  The crew’s asked me for a drink.”

“I appreciate you asking, but it’s Friday?”  I reminded him.

“That’s why they’re going to the pub tonight, because we’re not working tomorrow.”

I looked at him, “Alice and her friends’ art show?  It’s tonight and you and I have dinner plans before that.  We don’t have to stay late but we’ve known about Alice’s thing forever; she’ll be hurt if we don’t both show up.”

It took him a second before he answered me, “No, you’re right, of course, but…I wasn’t sure you’d feel up to doing both.  I thought we might skip dinner – I’d go out with the crew, just for a little while - then come back and pick you up for Alice’s.”

“But I made our booking at Rhombus weeks ago and I was really looking forward to it, especially after a week’s worth of chicken soup.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek and I thought he was going to argue with me, that maybe he thought I was still too unwell to go out and was going to try and talk me into staying home.  Instead he said, “I cancelled our reservation.”

I sat up, turning my face to him, “You cancelled it?”

“Yes.”

“The reservation I made?”

“Yes.” He said confidently. ~~~~

“Without asking me?” I asked, speaking very slowly.

“Yes.” He didn’t sound quite so sure of himself this time.

My coffee cup came down on the bedside table with a bang, “For fuck’s sake Ben, you know how much that pisses me off.”

“I do, yes, but I did think I was doing the right thing. It wasn’t like I did it to piss you off.”

“Call them and get it back.”

“Rhombus?  On a Friday?  I don’t know if there’s much chance of that.” He reasoned.

My temper flared, “Try.” I said sharply.

“O.K.” He raised his hands in surrender, “I’ll call the restaurant this morning.  Please love, don’t be angry with me.  It’s rather alarming how scary you are.”

I understood he’d cancelled the reservation out of concern, not high-handedness but I really would have preferred he’d asked me what I wanted to do first.  He gave me an impudent grin, attempting to charm me and of course it worked.  It always bloody worked.  I couldn’t stay mad and relented, flopping back against the pillows next to him.

“Scary,” I scoffed, “You’re such a chicken.”

Still grinning he asked, “Am I forgiven?”

“I suppose.”  I muttered.

“I only wanted you to be able to relax so you’d feel better for tomorrow.”

“What’s happening tomorrow?”

“I’ve done something else that was meant to be helpful only I’m not sure now is the best time to tell you.”

His arm was back around my shoulders, his fingers gently stroking my arm and, nice as it was, it did feel a little like he was petting me, trying to soothe me.  In my current state of mind, I couldn’t decide whether it was amusing or annoying.

“Because you did it without asking me?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t like it when you make decisions for us without discussing it with me but I do like you surprising me because you’re good at it.  I want it both ways Ben.”  My lip twitched as I tried to keep from smiling.

I could feel his gaze, “You’re not serious?”

“I am.  Sorry.” I shrugged, “It’s a little quirk of mine you’ll just have to get used to.”

“I’m supposed to simply carry on making plans with that knowledge, never knowing which side of the fence you’ll land on – overjoyed or homicidal?”  

“Yes.  Exciting, isn’t it?” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.

Laughing, he leaned over and kissed me, “You are a lunatic.  Barking mad.  I’ve always said so and it’s never clearer to me than when you go from zero to fury and back again in less than five seconds.”

“You know the night I was so furious at Cass?” I wrapped my arms around his neck, “When we got home, we were all over each other but, it occurs to me, we’ve never had sex when one of us was angry with the other.  That could be interesting, don’t you think?”

He cocked an eyebrow, “Have you forgotten what happened after that night?  After we blew off a little steam by getting physical?”

“No, I remember.  You lost your mind and put me in time-out for two weeks.”  I said cheerfully.

“And it wasn’t even each other we were angry with.”

“Yes but in the end, you proposed,” I said with a grin, “so all’s well that ends well.”

“You really are mad if you think I’d play with fire that way and chance something going off the rails again.” But then his focus drifted and I knew he was giving it more thought, “Anyway, it would only work if I were the angry one because you’re terrifying when you lose your temper.” 

“So are you.” I lay back, pulling him down on top of me, “Your cheeks flush and your eyes go all narrow and glittery and you clench your teeth until your jaw cracks.”

A smile spread over his face and he came nearer, rubbing the tip of his nose against mine, “You’re getting worked up just thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“I might be.”  I slid my hand down his back and into his boxer shorts.

“You are.  You’re getting aroused picturing me losing my temper.”

I squeezed his bum, “It’s your fault if I am.  I wasn’t like this before you, _Benedict_.”

He stared into my eyes and knew he’d file this conversation away for another day, when we had more time.  A little shiver of anticipation ran through me; I dug my fingers into his hair, raising my mouth to his and he opened his lips to my tongue. ~~~~

“I should get up and get dressed,” he said reluctantly when we separated, “do you think you could take your hand out of my pants?”

“Do you really have to go so soon?” I asked, though I knew the answer.

“I really do.  Please stop doing that.”  He twitched as my fingernails scratched lightly over his hip.

“Fine.” I huffed, letting both hands fall to my sides, “But before you go, what are we doing tomorrow?”

“We have an appointment with the jeweler to look at wedding rings and afterward, I thought we could have lunch.  Just you and me…and the wedding planner.”  His expression was a little tentative as he waited to see how I’d react.

“Wedding planner?”  That wasn’t what I was expecting at all.

“Mm-hmm.  I’ve been asking around and found two that came highly recommended by friends.  I’ve made an appointment with one to meet us at lunch and the other for tea a bit later.  And I haven’t made a unilateral decision,” he added quickly, “If you don’t like either of them, we’ll keep looking but I really don’t think we can do this on our own.  Even if we didn’t both have so much on our plates, time is an issue.”

He was right.  We were both busy and I at least, was reasonably clueless about weddings.  I figured a professional planner would know what needed to be done and when and if I was honest, would take a great deal of the pressure off so maybe I could even start to enjoy the process because so far, whenever I thought about it I just felt queasy.

“I think it’s a good idea.”

“Thank God,” he exhaled.

I had another thought, “Do you mind if I ask Charlie to come too?  With something like this I think he could be really helpful and he’s got great taste.”

“I like Charlie very much but you’ve asked Leah to chaperone the dress shopping because you were worried about him taking over.” He raised his eyebrows, looking doubtful, “Are you sure you can control him if he’s involved in the rest of the planning?”

“It’s mainly me and Leah he tries to boss around; he’ll be on his best behaviour with you.  I’ll make sure he knows why I want him there and remind him it’s not his wedding we’re planning, it’s ours.”

“As long as you’re sure, it’s fine with me if he comes along.”

“Good.” I put my arms around him, “And we’re picking our rings.  Funny, that’s the first thing about this I’m looking forward to.”

A frown creased his forehead and I quickly tried to explain myself.

“Everything else so far has only made me more nervous – where, when, who, the bloody dress.  And I know they’re only trying to be helpful but everyone I talk to about it seems to have their own ideas of what our wedding should be, even my bloody mother which is unexpected and completely unfair given how I was raised.”  I sighed, “It’s hard to block out the other voices when I’m so overwhelmed by the whole procedure.”

“I understand it’s a lot to wrap your head around and that’s why I thought we should hire someone to help, but Kai,” his voice went very quiet, “do you still want to do this?”

He looked distressed but I wasn’t sure if it was for me or for himself.  Either way, I felt terrible and I reached up, taking his face in my hands, “I absolutely do.  I would never have said yes when you asked me if I didn’t mean it.  Look Ben, when we first talked about moving in together, we also talked about making compromises, about being flexible and finding ways to fit into each other’s lives.  You said you’d be willing to move out of London if that’s what I wanted and that’s not a small thing.  All you’re asking is to marry me and while that’s not a small thing either, it’s hardly a torment.  It’s just a wedding for crying out loud but I think maybe I’m getting panicky over the details because I feel so out of my depth.” 

He brushed his fingers over my cheek, “I do want a wedding, but not if it’s only going to make you miserable; compromise is good but doing something for my happiness at the cost of your own isn’t what I want.”

Putting my arms around him, I smiled, “I’m not unhappy, not by a long shot.  I’m nervous about getting married, not about being married.”

He smiled back, relieved, “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure I want to you to be my husband and I’m fairly sure there’s no way for that to happen unless I actually marry you so let’s hire a wedding planner and get it done in a way that works for both of us.  And who knows?  Maybe having a professional to help will make it feel like less of an ordeal.”

He groaned, “Kai, calling it an ordeal doesn’t exactly set my mind at ease.”

“Sorry – I don’t mean marrying you,” I laughed, “I meant specifically the planning.  Choosing the venue, trying on dresses, figuring out what to feed the guests…all 500 of them or however many you’re inviting now; that’s the part that’s giving me panic attacks.” He started to interrupt, but I talked over him, “Choosing the rings?” a warm glow flooded through me, “That does excite me.  They’re the tangible symbols of all our promises to each other and we’ll wear them forever.  That makes me very, very happy.”

All traces of worry  left his face and he said, “Christ I love you.”

He kissed me and when his lips moved across my cheek, I squirmed.

“That tickles.”

“I didn’t see much point shaving if I’m just going to rehearsal but I won’t touch you again,” he grinned, “seeing as it bothers you so.”

“If you glued steel wool to your face I’d still let you kiss me.  Anyway, you’ve gotten so lax about shaving when work doesn’t require it, it’s kind of,” I smirked at my own bad joke, “grown on me.”

“Has it?” He scraped his chin lightly across my collarbone, “So, you don’t mind that?”

I looked into his eyes, “I might let you get away with it.”

“Might you?  And what about this?” He tucked his face into the hollow of my neck, nuzzling my skin.

“Oddly, I don’t hate it.” I said, suppressing a laugh.

Smiling wickedly, he pulled the top of my shirt down, pressing my breasts together with his hands so he could rub his scruff across both at once.  I inhaled sharply, putting my hands on top of his.

“Do that again.” I said quietly.

“What, this?” He asked, gently grazing my rapidly hardening nipples with his face.

“Yes.” I opened my eyes, “Why did you stop?”

“Because it’s,” he looked over at the alarm clock, “almost 9, I’m not dressed yet and it’s going to take me ages to get my trousers done up now.”

I gave him a teasing smile and snaked my hand between us, right into the top of his shorts, “It can’t be healthy, cramming yourself into tight trousers.  I’d hate for you to cause permanent damage.”

“Kai,” he warned, “that isn’t helping the situation at all.”

He didn’t pull away though, and when I kept going, grasping him lightly, his eyes fluttered and he pushed against my hand.  I draped my other arm around his neck and pulled him close, licking from his throat to his ear.

“On your back.” I whispered, not asking, telling.

“I can’t.  Really love, I have to go.” He was clearly conflicted.

My lips brushed his as I said, “Shush.” And I repeated myself, “On your back,” Adding, “Now.”

He hesitated and I probably should have felt bad, knowing I was going to make him late for work, but I absolutely didn’t. 

He wrapped his arms around me and flipped us over.  I lifted myself up, my eyes wandering over his chest, down his tight belly and back to his face.  I licked my lips.

“Well?” He said twisting his hips into me, “Hurry up then.”

I ran my hands up his arms, threaded my fingers with his and, leaning on him, hooked my feet over his calves and I kissed him hard, letting him feel my teeth on his soft lips.

“Don’t,” I said, “tell me what to do.”

The impudent bugger grinned up at me, “I was merely reminding you that time is of the essence.”

I sat up, pulled my nightshirt off and tossed it away.  Running my fingers over my breasts and down my ribcage, I pressed them flat against his stomach and he put his hands on top of mine.  His muscles tightened under my fingers when I rolled my hips.

“You’re going to watch,” I said, my voice low and soft, “as I hold your great big beautiful cock in my hands and stroke you until you come and when you do, I’m going to take you in my mouth and swallow every drop.  But,” I took his hands and leaning forward again, pressed them firmly into the mattress, “if at any point you reach for me, if you try to tell me what to do, if you move your hips, even an inch, I’ll stop.”

He made a face and complained, “This is because you didn’t come the other day, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s because you forced me to hold still and I want you to understand exactly how difficult that was for me and how hard I try to give you what you need.”  I smiled sweetly, “You can talk as much as you like, but if you move, you lose.”

The whole time we’d been talking, I’d been rubbing myself on him, feeling him harden beneath me.  I moved backward, pulling his boxer shorts down his long legs and as I came up the bed, I held his eyes, kissing my way up his body to land at his mouth and his hand rose to grasp the back of my neck.

I took it firmly in mine and shoved it back onto the bed, “Was there some part of _don’t move_ I wasn’t clear about?”

“No.  It’s just so hard not to touch you.” He still sounded cheeky. That was going to change, right now.

My voice was low when I said, “That is rather the point, and that’s your last warning.  Don’t play with me Ben.” I was right over top of him, holding his hands down and I bent forward, sinking my teeth into his shoulder until he groaned, “You’re not in charge here.”

“I’ll try harder.”

I recognized something in his voice.  I’d heard it from myself often enough when he was in a controlling mood.  I understood why hearing it from me provoked him the way it did because that tone of supplication, of longing, coming from him was almost enough to finish me.

“Do,” I advised. “I don’t want to have to stop, but I will.”

I leaned sideways and dug in my bedside drawer, dispensing lube into my cupped palm.  Wriggling backward, I knelt between his knees and rubbed my hands together, covering them with the lubricant, warming it, and I wrapped my fingers around him.  My plan wasn’t to torture him and even if he’d temporarily forgotten, I knew we didn’t have all day so I didn’t tease.  I ran my hands from root to tip, coating his shaft until it was slick and I gripped his girth, twisting my hands in opposite directions.  His eyes fluttered shut and he sighed.

“Ben, watch me.” 

His eyes flew open, focussed on my hands as I changed my grip, sliding one hand over the other in a constant motion.  I watched him too, his jaw clenching as he swallowed, his mouth falling open as his breathing deepened.  I saw muscles bunch in his shoulders and chest as he pressed his elbows into the mattress, forcing himself to keep still. 

He’d been working with a trainer nearly every day in preparation for the play and the changes to his body had become more noticeable.  For this character, brutish and cruel, he’d decided he needed to be heavier, that bulking up physically would make him seem more intimidating.  It dawned on me that it was also probably why he’d been so insistent about carting me up and down the stairs lately; he was showing off and the thought amused me. 

I always loved seeing, feeling his reactions to me, but it was especially exciting knowing he was obeying my instructions, his hands tightly curled by his sides, his cock standing thick and stiff.

“Ohh…” he moaned as I reached down, taking his balls in my palm.

I pressed my thighs together, momentarily distracted by my own arousal and he saw, his eye catching mine, “You don’t have to do this you know,” he growled, “come up here and ride me.”

I exhaled, my nipples tightening at the lust in his voice.  I shook my head.

“I can control myself.  Can you?” I asked him, slowly spreading my knees, pushing his legs further apart.

Pumping his length with one hand, I reached down, my slippery fingers searching for that spot I knew would put him over the edge, finding it, and his thighs flexed, unconsciously gripping me but I let it go because I could hear in his breathing how close he was, could see how hard he was trying to do what I wanted.  Tendons rippled in his forearms, the sheets bunched in his fists and I added a second finger, pressing in circles on his perineum. 

His back arched, “I can’t, I’m sorry…” and he pleaded, “please, oh god, please, don’t stop.”

Completely at my mercy, he moaned again and I responded, a wave of desire sweeping through me, so strong I nearly gave in to it.  His cock throbbed in my hand and I quickly shifted to the side.  With one hand still stroking him, the other circling the knot of nerves that drew the most sensual sounds from his throat, I took him in my mouth.  I sucked and his abdominal muscles jerked under my cheek.  I tasted him on my tongue, heard him calling my name and I swallowed again and again as his hips bucked off the bed. 

He collapsed with a shuddering groan and I sat up, reaching across him for my coffee cup and taking a couple of quick drinks.  I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, his chest heaving.

“You didn’t have to.” He panted, “I would have understood.”

“I forgot,” I admitted, taking another sip of coffee, “until it was too late.”

“Was it as bad as the other time?” His breath still coming short.

I stretched over him to put my cup down, saying, “Not quite, no.  Maybe it has something to do with what you’ve eaten?  There was just so much of it.”

He laughed at the face I made and reached for me.  I fell into his arms but stopped him when he tried to kiss me.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes my love, I’m sure.”

Our lips met and his tongue slipped into my mouth, his hand pressing between my legs.  He pushed me onto my back, rolling on top of me and his mouth moved down my neck, and lower.  He sucked a nipple hard, letting it slide from his lips and watching my face as he rubbed his whiskery chin over it.

“Oh, I like that.”

He chuckled and placed one stubbly kiss after another all the way down, stopping briefly to press his lips just below my belly button.  I saw his eyes shift to the side and I burst out laughing, knowing he’d just glanced at the alarm clock next to the bed.

“If you have to go…”

“Fortunately for you, I have a reputation to maintain.”

“For making me come in less than five minutes?”

“Well, yes.  But also, for being late for everything; they’d be shocked if I was on time anyway.”

“Lucky me.”

He grinned and ducked his head, pushing my legs apart with his shoulders.  He kissed my thighs, nipping lightly with his front teeth until my head dropped back on the pillow and he reached for my hand, clasping it tightly in his.  The other hand ghosted over my stomach to rest on my pubic hair and the thumb pressed down, easing into my slit.  The wide pad of his thumb rolled back and forth across my clitoris, kisses moving up my thighs and I could feel his breath, hot on my skin.  His hand moved down, his mouth covering my pussy and I gasped as he sucked my clit, plunging two fingers into my wetness. 

I closed my eyes, my entire focus narrowing down to him; the clean smell of his sweat, the sound of his mouth on my skin, the feel of his long fingers pushing deep, twisting inside me and the joy of knowing how much he loved this, feeling me react to the pleasure only he could give me.  I moved with him, eager for the rough thrusting of his hand, the rhythmic friction of his tongue drawing moans of bliss from me and I threw my legs around him, pulling him tighter to me as I lifted my hips for more.

His low hum of satisfaction vibrated through my sensitive flesh and I wailed, clenching hard around his fingers as I came, ribbons of electricity sparking through my body.  He gently slipped his fingers from me, crawling back up the bed to hold me until I stopped shaking.

I opened my eyes and announced, “That was fun.”

“Glad you enjoyed yourself.  Can I go to work now?”

“I suppose, unless,” I poked his penis with my finger, “you got anything left in there?”

“Jesus, no!  I’ve got to go.”

He leapt off me and went to the walk-in to get dressed, flicking the light on.  Flopping onto my side so I could see into the closet, I watched as he swept hangers along the rod, looking for a shirt, his back and shoulder muscles rolling under his skin.  I decided I quite liked this new body of his.

“Ben,” I called, “don’t worry about the reservation.”

He turned, “No?  Are you sure?”

“Definitely.  I assume they have food at this pub you were going to?”

“Yeah, their burgers are fantastic and they do a very good curry.”

“O.K. so, you go to the pub with your friends and I’ll come and meet you.  We can have a bite to eat and go to Alice’s from there.”

He beamed at me, “I’ll text you the address and you can take a cab.  This is perfect, you’ll get to meet some of the people I’ve been working with, put some faces to the names.”

As soon as he was dressed, he kissed me good bye and flew out the door.  I rolled onto my back and stretched, looking out the window.  I’d been cooped up in the flat most of the week and I needed to get outside and feel the sun on my skin.  I needed to move.

I wasn’t in any condition to run yet but I went for a long walk on the Heath, finally climbing, a bit out of breath, to the top of a tall hill where I could close my eyes and shut the world out.  I sat on the grass there for nearly an hour, thinking and trying to figure out why I was being so anxious about something that should be joyful.

I tried to imagine what I’d tell a friend, Leah for example, if she were going through this, cold sweats and panic at the thought of a wedding.  If I knew she loved someone the way I loved Ben, I’d probably tell her to snap the hell out of it and stop being such a baby.  It was only a wedding, one single day in our lives and there was no rational reason for me to be so worried about it.  I’d meant it when I told Ben I wasn’t afraid of being married because I couldn’t imagine how having a ceremony and signing a piece of paper was going to make anything different, at least for me. I’d still feel what I felt for him; nothing could change that, so what was it that made my stomach heave whenever I pictured myself in a wedding dress saying a few vows? 

It suddenly popped into my head that what was most important to me about our wedding was that Ben wanted it.  He wanted to get married, he knew what sort of wedding he wanted and while I didn’t care about either of those things, I cared about him and I wanted him to have everything that mattered to him.  Within reason, because there was no fucking way we were having a guest list that topped 200.

I let that thought swirl around in my head and made a decision.  I’d take my own advice and stop being such a baby.  I loved Ben and what it came down to it was, when he was happy, so was I.  And even the longest wedding could only last a couple of hours so how bad could it be?  

I would have stayed longer if dark clouds hadn’t moved across the sun, promising rain and I ~~~~headed home, stopping to pick up a newspaper on the way back.  I read it from cover to cover while enjoying a late, leisurely breakfast then took care of some work things, replying to an email from Myra asking if she could book some jobs that would mean paying overtime to a few of the staff on the weekend.  I gave her the go-ahead then forwarded her a copy of the ad I’d posted online for part-time gardeners and asked her to keep a couple of my afternoons free next week for interviews.  There was a message from Wanda too, saying she’d tracked down the information for us about the manor hotel.  I got up for another cup of coffee, breathed deeply and clicked on the link she’d sent.

It was called Brantley Manor and it was gorgeous, like something out of a classic novel.  The sprawling house stood at the top of a large circular driveway with a fountain in the centre of the lawn dancing in the sun.  The stone work was a warm yellow colour and the house looked like it was glowing against varied shades of green from the grass and surrounding trees.  I tapped on the ‘Take a Tour’ button and my mouth fell open.  There was a grand entrance hall, with marble floors and tall pillars leading to a curved staircase.  I took my time, exploring the many rooms of the house, awed by the ballroom with its high windows all the way around and enormous chandeliers.  There was one picture taken at night with the room set for a party, glass and silverware twinkling under the lights and without even checking what the bedrooms looked like, I clicked on the ‘Availability’ button to see if they were booked for any events in the first week of January.  Looking at the empty calendar, I felt a surge of excitement that surprised me a little, and went back to look at what they offered for special events, reading sample menus and checking to see how many guests could be accommodated at a time.  I opened the file I’d started and saved the information to show Ben and the wedding planners tomorrow.  I was relieved to realize that, while the strange sense of dread I’d been feeling whenever wedding planning was mentioned hadn’t exactly gone away, while going over the website, I had started to look forward to it.  I sent Wanda a long note thanking her for the information and updating her on the meeting with the wedding planners which reminded me to call Charlie and see if he could come along.

I knew I’d be seeing him later tonight but he usually had a pretty full schedule and it was short notice as it was.  I needn’t have worried; he was so thrilled to be asked that he promptly cancelled his previous brunch plans and agreed to meet us at the restaurant at one o’clock.

After I’d done my breakfast dishes, I tidied the sitting room, putting away the various medicines and other detritus that had accumulated there during the week.  Seeing dust on the coffee table, I realized the whole flat was in need of a serious cleaning.  I opened all the windows to air the place out, put on some loud music and got to work.  The floors of the upper and main stories got hoovered and washed, both bathrooms scrubbed, and every surface polished until it glowed.  I changed the bed linens, took them downstairs to the laundry room and then went to get a beer from the fridge.  As I took a long drink and looked around at the sparkling flat, I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time.  It was cathartic, having a good clean-up, as though I’d also junked out the nonsense that had piled up in my head when I wasn’t paying attention.

I figured out what I was going to wear and ran my bath.  Once my hair was dry and my make up done, I stretched out on the bed for a minute to answer another text from Jem, confirming we’d be there by nine o’clock.  It was at least the fifth time in a week he’d called or texted about it and I thought it was sweet how invested he was, how much he wanted the night to go well for Alice.   I only put my head down for a minute and the next thing I knew I was awoken by Ben’s ringtone.  I sat up, scrambling for my phone and answered.

“H’lo?”

“You were napping.”

“Yes,” I yawned, “I was.  What time is it?”

“Time for you to get your lovely arse in a cab.  We’ve been here for an hour and they’re starting to think you’re a figment of my imagination.”

Laughing, I said, “O.K. I’m getting dressed right now, see you soon.”

The cab dropped me outside the pub and I made my way inside, scanning the room, busy with the Friday after-work crowd, for Ben.  Walking through the bar, I couldn’t see him anywhere but as I reached the back wall, I heard a wolf-whistle from the top of the staircase.  I looked up and he was leaning on the railing, glass in hand and a big smile on his face.  I ran to the top of the steps and he greeted me with a kiss.

It was only slightly quieter here than down below where people were mostly standing with their drinks, voices raised to be heard over the music.  Upstairs was where people went to eat, the tables packed close, and it was warm with the fireplace in the corner burning brightly.  As he led me to the rear of the upstairs area, I could see a large group seated around two tables that had been pushed together watching our approach and grinning at Ben.  A large, bearded man at the end of the table stood as we came to a stop.

With a broad smile he offered his hand and as I shook it he boomed with a thick brogue, “It’s good to finally meet you.  We were beginning to think he’d invented you.”

“Oh no, I’m definitely real,” I answered, “if he was going to make up a girlfriend, she’d probably be more punctual and not say ‘fuck’ quite as often.”

Ben pulled his glasses off and rubbed his hand over his eyes, “Kai, this is Feargal MacKenna, our director.”

“Nice to meet you Feargal, I like your accent.”

“And I like yours,” He said, pulling out the chair next to his, “come sit here next to me.”

“Oh Jesus.” Ben said.

I sat and Ben introduced me around the circle, telling me everyone’s names and what their job was if they were on the crew or role if they were an actor.  I’d run lines with him so many times that I knew the script practically from memory and it was interesting to match the faces with their characters, to see if they looked in any way as I’d pictured them.  Only one of them sort of did - Sir Kenneth, who was playing the patriarch and Ben’s father in the play.  He was tall and silver haired, wearing a deep green velvet smoking jacket, and was completely but rather elegantly sozzled, swaying gently as he stood to kiss my hand when we were introduced. 

Ben ran downstairs to get me a drink and Feargal and I got acquainted.  He was charming, extremely funny and we had something in common since he’d lived in Vancouver for five years, working as the Artistic Director of a very well known theatre company. ~~~~

I looked over to where Ben was crouched down at the other end of the table.  Just at that moment he burst out laughing at something Caroline, the actress playing his sister, said and I couldn’t help smiling at the joy on his face.  He was in his element.

Someone suggested ordering food and Ben came back to sit with me, looking over my shoulder at the menu.  Our server was called Tony and the cast and crew were clearly regulars at the pub because he knew all of their names as well.  Despite his obvious efficiency, it took ages to get our orders in.  We were a large group and it seemed as though every single person wanted either a substitution or an addition to their meal, Tony making non-stop jokes at their expense but still double checking everything and taking copious notes.  When he got to me, I ordered a burger and salad with blue cheese dressing.

“Dressing on the side?” He asked with a grin, “Or perhaps madam would like me to hop the train to France to procure a particular type of Roquefort?”

“Nope, just dump it on.” I winked at him.

As he headed toward the kitchen Ben said, “You’ll probably get your food ages before the rest of us.”

“Uh-huh, and mine’s the only one the cooks aren’t going to spit in.”

Ben laughed. “They don’t really do that.”

“Oh yes they do,” I assured him, speaking quietly, “some of them take it personally when customers re-invent the menu.”

He nodded good naturedly, “Actors.  It’s likely everyone at the table is following some kind of special diet, whatever is hot or in right now.”

“You’re not.”

“Well, I am eating more than I normally would.  I would have finished that pizza last night if you hadn’t gotten up and put it away.”

Grinning, I surveyed the array of glasses on the table, “Apparently booze is included on all their plans.”

He picked up his glass of red wine and toasted me with it, “We’re actors, not animals.”

After supper, more drinks were ordered but not by me.  I was taking it easy since we had another party to go to and I wasn’t quite up to my usual ability after a week of fighting a cold.  I had a chance to talk with a few of the others and they were a lovely group, welcoming and inclusive.  The whole table moved about constantly, like the world’s slowest game of musical chairs as people joined and left conversations. 

I was enjoying myself and not paying attention to the time until Ben waved his hand to get my attention and pointed to his watch face.  As I returned to my original seat to collect my coat and purse, he stood, reaching for his jacket. ~~~~

“Here,” he said, extending his glass toward me, “help me finish this.”

As his arm swung in my direction, someone on the other side of the table asked him something and he turned to answer, misjudging how close I was and I walked straight into his hand.  It seemed to happen in slow motion, my hand coming up just in time to make contact with the stem of the glass with exactly enough force to tip it directly into my cleavage. 

Collectively, the group said, ‘Oooh’. 

Ben looked at me in horror as I stood frozen, red wine seeping down the front of my dress.  I grabbed at the cloth, pulling it away from my skin.

“Fucking hell, oh god, I’m so sorry.” Ben dithered, not sure what to do before snatching a napkin from the table and offering it to me.

“I don’t think that’s going to be much help.” I said, looking down at myself. ~~~~

Various voices piped up, offering advice - club soda, rinse it with white wine – but examining my front, I was pretty sure there was no way to fix it well enough to be able to wear it to Alice’s and I said so to Ben.

“Let’s get you dried off at least and then we’ll make a quick run home so you can change.” He said, dabbing at me with the napkin, “I’m sorry about your dress; I’m such a…”

I jumped in, interrupting his apology, “It was as much my fault as yours, I basically ran right into you.  I don’t care about the dress, I feel bad that we’re going to be late, that’s all.”

Ben turned around to get my coat and purse and when he turned back to me, I looked at what he was wearing, a soft blue button down over a plain white t-shirt. 

“Can I have your shirt?”

“What, really?”

I shrugged, “It’s worth a try.  This,” I pointed at my dress, “is pretty much just a long shirt.”

He led the way to the bathroom.  In the hall, he knocked on the door of the Ladies’ and cautiously pushed it open, calling out to see if there was anyone in it.

“Come on.” He said, stepping through the door, already undoing his shirt buttons.

“You don’t need to come in with me.”

“I don’t need to…” He grinned.

I held my hand out, “Give me the shirt Ben.”

“Come and get it.” He said, backing further into the loo.

“With you ‘helping’ me change, it’ll take twice as long.  Anyway, I’m not screwing you in here; it reeks of disinfectant.”

“Spoilsport.” He said, passing me his shirt on his way out.

I went in to the bathroom and locked the door behind me with a loud click.  Opening the front of my dress, I stood in front of the hand dryer.  When my bra was dry, I changed, balling up my dress and slipping into Ben’s shirt.  I buttoned it, rolled the sleeves up to my elbows and put my belt back on.  Looking in the mirror, trying to decide if I could get away with it, I was glad that he was so much taller than me but the shirt was still an awful lot shorter than I would normally have worn out in public. I turned to check the back and sides…maybe I’d just keep my coat on.

I opened the door, “Well?”, I asked hesitantly.

The way he looked at me almost made me blush, “Have I said how much I love it when you wear my shirts?”

We made one final trip up the stairs to say good bye to everyone, laughing at their completely over the top compliments on my new outfit and Ben and I left to get a cab.  On the way to Alice’s I kept catching him glancing at my legs.

“You’re making me self conscious.”

“You shouldn’t be; you have fantastic legs.”

“Which you’ve seen a thousand times before, so stop staring.”

“Well, I have but,” he slid his finger up the outside of my thigh and I got goosebumps, “you don’t usually wear short skirts.  It’s sort of like with lingerie, what you can almost see is the most exciting part.”

I looked down, “Shit, can you almost see something?  Because if so, I’m definitely leaving my coat on.”

He laughed, “No, you’re fine.  Perfectly decent, unlike my thoughts.”

His hand was resting on my leg and I threaded my fingers through his, “Indecent thoughts, hm?  Anything you’d like to share?” 

“If you’re that curious,” he whispered in my ear, “I’ll bet the loo at Alice’s has a lock on it.”

He licked my earlobe and I nearly jumped off the seat.  Lifting his hand from my leg, I pulled his arm around me, distracting him from his mission by making him laugh when I said if he could see anything at all, it was probably the stubble burn on my thighs from this morning. ~~~~

He suddenly yawned hugely, “I hope Alice has coffee.  It’s been a long day.”

“Close your eyes and rest, there’s time.  Alice lives in the middle of nowhere.”

He really was tired; I had to wake him when the cab turned into a dark, nearly deserted looking industrial area.  It wasn’t until we made the next turn that we saw signs of life, a few cars parked on the road and lights coming from windows set high in the brick face of an old warehouse.  I paid the cabbie and got out of the taxi, doing up my coat and tying the belt.  Ben took my hand, walking up the pavement toward an open door, following the light and the sound of classical music playing.

Looking up and down the street he said, “Jesus Christ, Alice _lives_ here?”

“Yeah, she shares with two other artists.  They live downstairs and use the upstairs as studio space.”  I looked up at the windows, “I guess the light’s better up there.”

“It’s creepy as hell, outside at least.  Does she have a car?” He asked, concerned.

“Yeah, an ancient Mini.”

“Good, I’d hate to imagine her walking home from the bus or the tube.  If there are buses or a tube station near here.”

We walked in the door and it was like stepping into a different world.  Once we were past the front hallway, it immediately got warmer and the enormous open space was lit softly by an assortment of mismatched lamps and small spot lights highlighting the art hanging on the walls.  A few people were already milling around a seating area where there were at least a dozen sofas scattered in a central space, sitting on top of miles of beautiful old rugs with tasseled edges.  Near the back of the room was a combined kitchen and dining area with a trestle table at least 8 feet long covered with platters of food.  The bar was set up at one end of a long, wood topped island that I could see was usually used as a workspace, the surface randomly splattered with so many colours it looked like a giant’s paint palette. That’s where I saw the first familiar face, pointing out Jem, organizing the food.  We went over to say hello and on the way, I looked up, following the long metal staircase to the studio area where I saw Alice, holding an easel while a man adjusted a painting for display.

Jem greeted us both with hugs and then proceeded to scold me.

“You said you wouldn’t be late.”

“It’s not even 9:30 and I have a very good excuse.” I said and explained about my dress and the wine.

“Oh no,” He cringed in sympathy, “Open your coat, let’s see how bad it is.”

“No, seriously, it was so bad I had to change, that’s why we’re late.” I opened my coat and showed him, “Be honest, do I look alright?”

“Is that…?”

“Ben’s shirt, yes.”

“Well, I think you look fine but Charlie’s just arrived,” he said, looking over my shoulder, “so brace yourself.”

We laughed and he asked what we’d like to drink.  Ben asked if there was any coffee and he and Jem went over to the counter to start a pot and get my gin and tonic.  I turned to look for Charlie, and Leah raised her hand in a wave.  Charlie was hanging up their coats and I grinned as he reached for Leah, adjusting the neckline of her top and fluffing her hair.  As they came toward me, I had a chance to check out Andy, Charlie’s new man.  They were a study in contrasts, both about the same height but Andy had a sturdier build, while Charlie was slim as a rail, his hair dark and curly while Andy’s was blond and combed smoothly back from his face, highlighting cheekbones almost as sharp as Ben’s.

Ben reappeared at my side with a tall, cold glass and I could smell lemon as I took a sip.

“Is that the famous Andy?” he asked.

“It must be.” I agreed as they came toward us.

Charlie’s excitement was palpable as he introduced Andy to Ben.  He was practically bouncing as they shook hands and talking a mile a minute. 

“And this is my dear friend Kai,” his voice dropped to what he, wrongly, considered a whisper, “the bride I’m dressing!”

“Charlie!” I hissed, “You promised.”

“Oh pish,” he scoffed, “It doesn’t count if it’s Andy, he won’t tell anyone.  Ah, there’s Jem.” He said, taking the bouquet of flowers Andy was holding, “I want to get these in a…what are you wearing?”  He stopped dead.

I sighed and told the story one more time, “It was either this or go home to change and we didn’t have time.”

He looked me up and down, “I suppose it could be worse but maybe if you…” Andy placed a hand gently on his shoulder and to my astonishment, it stopped Charlie’s critique dead in its tracks.  In a softer voice he continued, “Considering what you had to work with, you look very pretty.  The accessories are good and your hair looks great.”

Leah and I looked at each other.  Having both been on the receiving end of Charlie’s ‘advice’, we both knew I was getting off lightly.  Charlie took Andy to meet Jem and get a vase for the flowers he’d brought; Leah and Ben finally had a chance to say hello.  It was the first time they’d seen each other since I’d told Ben she and I sometimes discussed our sex lives and I was pretty sure he was blushing.  He offered to get her a drink and disappeared back to the bar.

“You sound much better than you did on Wednesday, you feeling alright?” She asked.

“Yeah, thanks.  I’m getting a bit hoarse from all the talking tonight but I feel fine.  How’s work?”

Leah was a free-lance journalist and I thought she was an extremely gifted writer.  She seemed to be able to research and write about any subject from entertainment to science to politics with equal dexterity and she’d recently finished a piece on human trafficking that had been bought by the Washington Post.  Ben brought Leah her glass of wine and I think he was going to run away again but he got caught up listening to her telling me about some of the dicier meetings she’d had with some seriously bad people.

Alice called out a hello as she ran down the stairs.  We all moved to congregate at the kitchen island and Alice explained that most of the new pieces they were showing were upstairs and we could head up any time.  While we’d been chatting, people had continued drifting in and the room was filling up.  I felt a light tap on my shoulder and turned to see Chloe and Liam.

“Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in ages!  Jem never said you were coming.”

“We weren’t sure we’d be able to make it.” Chloe explained, “Charlotte’s got a stubborn streak and had been refusing to even try bottle feeding, making it a little difficult to leave her for any length of time but we finally convinced her to give it a go yesterday and Liam’s Mum insisted she’d be fine alone with her and pushed us out the door.”

“I’m so glad,” I said, giving her a hug, “I’ve missed you; both of you.”

Liam answered, “She’s sleeping longer at night and we’re starting to feel a little more human now so with any luck, we’ll be around more.  Sorry you couldn’t make it the other night but it was considerate of you to stay away when you were sick.”

They’d called earlier in the week to let me know they were having an impromptu dinner party but I’d begged off, feeling too rotten and not wanting to take a chance on making the baby sick.  We chatted a little longer until the sound of a cork popping from a champagne bottle caught Chloe’s attention.

“We took a cab and I have a fridge full of breast milk, so I’m going to get tipsy.” She put her hand on my arm, “Can I catch up with you in a bit?”

I laughed and sent them off to the bar.  Alice grabbed an eggroll on her way past the table and came over to where I was standing.

“I’m looking forward to seeing your work,” I said, “but please don’t be offended if I don’t ‘get it’.  I really don’t know much about art.”

She laughed, “There’s nothing to get with my work, it’s pretty simple.  The series I’ve been working on is deconstructed photos.  Some are from nature and there are a couple of portraits.  I paint the individual parts and rearrange them around the original to make a new design.”

“Like Picasso?  All mixed up?”

“Not really.  You’ll have to see for yourself.  There’s one I’m particularly excited about.  When you go upstairs, it’s on the long wall to the right.  It’s from a black and white photo; it’s called ‘Dream Girl’.  I think you’ll like that one.”

I found myself hoping I did because I had no idea what I’d say to her if I didn’t.  I thought I’d better make sure Ben was with me so he could do all the talking and I could just nod in agreement.  Alice ran off to say hello to the other guests and I refilled my drink.  Ben was at the table with Jem, a plate in his hand piled high with food.  I was still full from dinner but he didn’t seem to have the same problem.  The two of them were talking and laughing so I left them to it and saw that Charlie had left Andy on his own for a moment and went over to talk with him, wondering if he’d tell me how he’d done that trick with getting Charlie to stop mid-rant.

He asked about my work, saying Charlie told him what I did and that he loved to garden.  The flowers they’d brought for Alice had come from his own greenhouse.  I looked over at the vase full of peonies.

“You grew those at this time of year?”

“I have them year round.  Peonies, roses, all sorts of lilies.  You can come out and have a look some time if you like.” He sounded shy, but also proud.

“Just how big is this greenhouse?”

He looked embarrassed, “It’s bloody enormous.  I inherited my grandparent’s house and they were devoted gardeners.”

“The whole place is enormous,” Charlie clarified as he returned with a glass of wine for Andy, “and it’s absolutely gorgeous but the flowers he grows put the house to shame.”

Andy looked away but I could tell he was pleased by the pride in Charlie’s voice however, the shy face returned when Charlie continued, “What Andy is too polite to say is that he, well the expression is, comes from money.  That house he mentioned inheriting is an estate.”

As usual, Charlie cheerfully prattled on and on, telling me about not only the estate but Andy’s second house in town, oblivious to the effect he was having.  This was what Leah and I referred to as his ‘excited puppy syndrome’; slightly exhausting, completely good natured and basically harmless as long as you weren’t the one he was talking about.  I interrupted him and directed the conversation back to Andy’s green thumb, asking him if he had an irrigation system and what sort of compost he used for the different plants.  Charlie soon lost interest as we got deeper into specifics and wandered away to find some food.

“Thank you.” Andy said, “I adore him but sometimes I just want to clap a hand over his mouth.”

“Good luck with that.  He’ll just bite you and keep talking.”

“Do you think so?” He laughed.

“I know so, from experience.” I said with a grin, pointing at the burn scar on my hand for effect, “But you were pretty skillful at redirecting him earlier.”

“Yes, well, I have a harder time of that when it’s me he’s talking about,” he admitted with a sweet smile, “and I’m busy dying of embarrassment.”

I laughed in sympathy, “I know exactly what you mean.  Mine does that too.”

“Congratulations by the way.” he said quietly, nodding in Ben’s direction.

I thanked him and decided I liked him very much.  He did seem the polar opposite of Charlie – shy and gentle to his brashness for a start – but I could see the way they looked at each other and hoped they were a good match because I adored Charlie and I was already beginning to see that Andy grounded him in a way none of his previous boyfriends had. ~~~~

Ben came over and asked if I wanted to go upstairs to see Alice’s work.  I nodded and Leah came along, the three of us agreeing that the stairs were a nightmare but me mostly hoping no one could see up my shirt through the open metal-work grating.  At the top we followed Ben, turning to the left and he said Alice had told him her work was all on the walls, one of her roommates was displaying his work on the easels and the third artist was a sculptor whose pieces were free standing.  I immediately understood what Alice had meant by deconstructed and rearranged when I saw her first piece.  It was a close up photograph of a dandelion, white and fluffy against a background of green grass.  Scattered around the original were incredibly perfect paintings of individual seeds with their tufted heads.  Viewed from a distance, it looked like they were blowing across the wall and I was charmed by it.

“See,” said Alice from behind me, “Not weird or scary at all.”

“No, thank god, it’s beautiful and clever, just like the artist.  Show me another.”

She took us to the next one, this one an oak tree, the photo blown up so it was taller than I was.  She’d painted fallen leaves in glorious, intense fall colours and they blanketed the wall beneath the tree.  I got closer, crouching down to examine the detail and it was remarkable, each individual vein carefully reproduced.  I stood up and looked at Alice.

“Is your work expensive?  Because these would be perfect for my office.”

“Fortunately for you, I’m a complete unknown so my work is cheap.  You should buy a whole bunch now before I get famous and you can’t afford me anymore.” She offered cheerfully.

I was serious but before I could press her for a figure, she pointed to her right, “That’s ‘Dream Girl’, the portrait I wanted to show you.”

I looked to where she pointed and my breath caught.  It looked like me.  I quickly walked closer, not sure what to think.

It was me, or us rather, the picture taken when I was fast asleep.  It showed Ben from the neck down, his arm around me and my head on his chest, my hair spreading across my naked back and extending from the photo and across the wall like Rapunzel.  As I got nearer I could see that the long swirls of hair looping out from the picture were made up of countless paintings, even the largest no bigger than the palm of my hand - close up details of my face, eyelashes against my cheek, freckles on the bridge of my nose, the moles on Ben’s throat and his hand, reproduced from where it rested in the small of my back, and each one so life-like, I half expected to see them move.

“Bloody hell,” Leah said reverently, “that’s amazing.”

From behind me Alice nervously asked, “Do you like it?”

I nodded, swallowing around the lump in my throat, “I think it’s beautiful and I’m honoured.  Alice, it must have taken forever.  All those tiny paintings…”

“It was a labour of love and it belongs to you, an early wedding present.”

“Alice, thank you!”

“It’s not from me, it’s from him.”  She glanced at Ben, “It was a commission.”

“Did you take that picture?”

He laughed, “Of course.  It’s not like I could sneak Alice in to take it, you’d have woken up.”

“I really, really love it.”  That was saying something because I didn’t usually like the way I looked in pictures.

“I’m so glad.  I took about fifty, trying to get the angles right without moving anything other than the hand holding the camera.” He grinned, “Poor Alice, I just emailed them all to her and asked her to pick the one that would work.”

I stepped into his arms and stood on my toes to kiss him, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  I’m just relieved you like it; I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about me taking pictures of you in your sleep but you never let me take pictures when you’re awake.  I had to try though because when Alice told me what she was working on and mentioned portraits, I knew I wanted one of you.”

There were more and more people coming upstairs to the viewing area and a man standing beside us looked at the portrait, then at me and back to the wall.  I felt my face turning pink and I took Ben’s hand, dragging him away.

“I can’t stand there and watch people looking at it.  It feels weird.” I explained.

Back on the main floor, Leah, wearing smart grey trousers, hopped up to sit on the island.  I was about to do the same but stopped and asked Ben for a boost.  His eyes sparkling with mirth, he put his hands 'round my waist and lifted me up, standing in front of me like a shield until I had my ‘skirt’ arranged for maximum decency.

“Keep your knees together.” He grinned as he stepped back.

I looked at him like he was crazy, “Who are you and what have you done with my fiancé?”

“Together,” he amended, “for now.”

He winked at Leah and she giggled as he walked away.  I was just happy he would make a joke like that in front of her, sure it meant he didn’t feel uncomfortable around her.

“Did Charlie tell you about the dress appointment?” She asked when we were alone.

“Yeah, Tuesday at noon.  You think you’re ready for it?”

“Me?  What do I have to be ready for?  I’m just there to provide moral support and make you laugh.”

“No, you’re there to help me keep Charlie in check.”

“Right, like that’s even a remote possibility.  Speaking of dresses, have you given any thought to what I’m going to wear?”

I stared at her blankly, “What?”

“Bridesmaid?” she clarified, “Have you and Ben chosen a colour scheme yet?”

“Oh god,” I moaned, “I suck at this.”

“Relax, it’s not like there’s any kind of hurry.” She said sarcastically.

“Remind me why I asked you to be a bridesmaid again?  Because I don’t even like you.”

“You love me and you know it.  And I’m a bridesmaid because your man of honour is even more clueless than you.  Anyway, once you decide on a colour, just let Charlie know because you know he’s going to end up picking my dress anyway.”

“Black.” I said.

“Black?”

“Yes, you look great in black and it’ll make it easy for Jem to get a suit that goes with the theme.  I just have to remember to tell Ben and the wedding planner when we meet tomorrow.”

That sent us off down the rabbit hole, talking about food and flowers and the manor house Wanda had given me the lead on.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” I said, slapping my hands down on my thighs, “I’m going to have to go over all of this tomorrow, twice, when we meet with the planners and I just caught Ben yawning again, we should get going.”

As usual, once we announced we were leaving, it took ages to make the rounds and say good bye to everyone and even longer to get a cab at this hour and to convince them that it was the right address and they weren’t driving out to an industrial area to be robbed and murdered.

Ben and I cuddled together in the back seat and he dozed on my shoulder all the way home.  He dragged himself upstairs while I locked up and turned off the lights.

By the time I was done in the bathroom, Ben was on his back, the lamp on his side already off and his arm over his face.  I slid in next to him, pulling the duvet over us. I snuggled up and he lifted his arm from his eyes to wrap around me, his hand smoothing down my back.

“Your skin is like silk,” he whispered, “and you smell so good.”

I raised my head, “There were a lot of esses in that sentence.  You really are knackered.”

“I really am.  Was I lisping?”

His eyes were drowsy, his voice even deeper than usual and I smiled, “You were.  I know you’ve worked hard to get rid of it, but I think it’s adorable.”

I put my head back down on his chest, “Sleep well Ben.”

“Hold on a minute, what about those indecent thoughts I was having earlier?” He tried to struggle up onto his elbow.

“I’m not the one who was yawning his head off.” I replied, gently pushing him back down.

His nose twitched, his hand flying up to cover his mouth and I giggled.

“Sympathetic response; I only mentioned yawning and it set you off.  Go to sleep my lovely, tired man.”

“Alright, but I’m warning you, I’ll be twice as randy in the morning.”

“I’m counting on it.”

I rolled over to turn my lamp off, then back to him, “I had a wonderful time with you tonight and thank you for the painting, I love it and I love you.”

“Yes you do and I thank my lucky stars for it, every day.”

He kissed my forehead and I hugged him tightly. 


	31. The Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding talk, wedding talk, wedding talk, blah blah blah. Well, that's how Kai would see it, no?  
> But that's what it is, rings and planners and nerves and nightmares...  
> Which isn't to say that there aren't also some laughs and a great deal of sweetness from a certain lovely Brit (not to mention sex, because...come on!) ;)

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 31 – The Best Laid Plans

“Kai,” cajoled the insistent voice in my ear for the second time, “wake up.”

Pulling my arm out from under the blankets, I felt around until my hand covered his face and I slowly pushed him away.

“Sleeping.” I muttered.

“I can see that,” he answered, peeling my fingers from his cheeks, “what I’m saying is, I’d like you to be not sleeping.”

I ignored him.  I’d had a restless night, waking frequently when a storm blew up, howling wind and rain rattling like handfuls of pebbles being thrown against the windows.  I wasn’t ready to get up.

“Kai.” His weight shifted.

“Kai.” Close enough now that I could smell his toothpaste.

“Kai.” He began repeatedly tapping the end of my nose with his finger.

I opened one eye, just enough to glare, “What is wrong with you?”

“You’re lying there looking like an advert for a honeymoon hotel,” he rumbled suggestively, “and it’s giving me all sorts of ideas.”

“Ideas?”

“Mm-hmm.” His lips resonated pleasantly against my ear.

“Such as?” I mumbled, intrigued despite my sleepiness.

“Open your eyes and I’ll tell you.” 

He rose to his knees as I sat up, rubbing my eyes and I saw that he was already dressed, clad in dark blue from head to toe except for his dove grey shirt.

“Seeing you in a suit always gets me in the mood, though you’re a bit over dressed for what I thought you had in mind.”

“Love, I’m sorry but we’ve overslept.  You were tossing and turning all night so I let you sleep while I showered.  I wanted to wake you up as pleasantly as possible so I’m afraid I resorted to a little trickery.”

“That wasn’t very nice Benedict.” I said in my best ‘annoyed Mum’ voice.

He scuttled backward off the bed with his hands raised to ward off any outburst of violence but his amused look was wiped away very efficiently indeed as he dodged to avoid the pillow I threw at him.

“I wish you’d woken me up earlier.  I wanted to wash my hair and I have to wear real make-up and…”

I was interrupted by the sultriest voice, “You don’t have to do anything special.  As far as I’m concerned you’re breathtaking just the way you are.”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he asked, innocence personified.

I grinned, “You know what I mean; stop being all sexy as if it were going to lead to anything.”

“Furthest thing from my mind, I assure you,” he grinned back as he left the room, “and you do have enough time to shower if you get up right this minute.”

I was drying my hair when he brought me a coffee.  Sipping from his own cup, he leaned on the door frame to watch me get ready.  My eyes swept from his still damp hair to his shiny black shoes.

“If you keep working out like this, you’re going to need to get some new clothes.”

He looked down at himself, “It’s not too small, is it?”

“Not exactly, but your thighs in those trousers…you look almost as good in that suit as you do out of it.”

“Thank you.” He said, looking pleased.

When I put the blow dryer down he asked, “Can you help me with this cufflink?”

He held his right arm up while I fiddled with the closure, “I hadn’t realized you were going to wear something so formal today.  Now I have to re-think my previous plan.”

“What were you planning on wearing?”

I looked up into his eyes, “I had thought I might wear your shirt again.  It was rather…stimulating last night, smelling you on me every time I moved.”

He bent to press his lips to mine and I put my arms around his waist, “It’s just as well you can’t,” he murmured, “I won’t be able to concentrate on a fucking thing all day now you’ve told me that.”

“I know.  Besides, I thought I might be able to pare down your guest list while you were busy staring at my legs.” I teased.  “And what do you mean, I can’t?  Since when do you tell me what to wear?”

“I would never dare, normally.” He said, “But the dress code at the club is pretty specific.”

“Ah, yes.” I rolled my eyes, “Lunch as a guest at, what was it called again?  Club Anachronism?  Wouldn’t want my outfit to offend any of the old boys; bad enough me and my vagina are daring to cross the threshold.”

It had been a shock when he told me he was a member of a club that didn’t admit women as members.  I’d been on my way to building up a fine head of steam when he reminded me I belonged to a women’s only gym and while I was at least allowed as a guest at his club, he wasn’t allowed to set foot in my facility.  I’d shot his argument down, listing the reasons why women wanting a judgement-free zone to work out in wasn’t even close to the same thing as a bunch of old farts sitting around harrumphing over their newspapers and drinking sherry.  He’d let me rant at him for ten minutes before he’d interrupted and told me he’d actually voted to allow women to join, the last time it had gone before the membership.  I’d sat down, crossed my arms and asked him to explain to me how that justified him remaining a member when the vote failed.  ‘If all the more progressive members quit, who’s going to be left?’ he’d asked me.  I’d conceded that he made a good case, but I wasn’t going to pretend to like it and I’d only agreed to go there in part because I felt like I’d be making a point.

He groaned, “You know I only suggested it because neither of us wanted anyone coming to the flat until we’d actually signed a contract with them and I thought it would provide more privacy than a restaurant.”

“Yeah, well…I still think it’s ridiculous and old fashioned and I’m going to take the piss at every opportunity but I won’t embarrass you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His eyebrow rose, “You sure?”

“Yes.  I’ll wait until we’re home,” I pulled him close to me and said, “and you can make it up to me then.”

“Make it up to you?”

“Mm-hmm.  If you take me for lunch to a club that doesn’t allow women to be members because of outmoded, dated and backward traditions, I think it’s only fair that when we get home, we turn the tables and you have to follow my rules.”

He nuzzled my cheek, “You know my love, obeying your instructions isn’t exactly a punishment in my book.”

“Good,” I whispered in his ear, “you can start with the laundry; those clothes ain’t gonna wash themselves.  Now get out of here, I have to finish getting ready.”

He was still laughing on his way out the door. 

In the closet, perusing the row of dresses hanging in front of me, I tried to decide what to wear.  I was already nervous and the time pressure wasn’t helping at all.   Besides the fact that Charlie would be there to let me know what he thought, I also wanted to make a good first impression on the wedding planners.  Although we were interviewing them and not the other way around, I didn’t want to give either of them any reason to think I wasn’t business-like, organized and well put together.  Whichever one we hired would find out soon enough what an obstinate pain in the ass I was going to be to work with.

I ended up choosing a simple eggplant coloured pencil dress with capped sleeves and a fairly modest V-neck that I paired with a silvery cardigan and high grey pumps.  I liked the way my hair contrasted with the dark purple of the dress so I left most of it down, clipping the sides back loosely with a single barrette.  Giving myself the once over, I thought I needed a bit more colour in my face so I added another dusting of blush and opted for soft pink lipstick instead of my usual sheer peach gloss.  I found it funny how even at my age, wearing lipstick still made me feel like a grown-up. 

I grabbed my coffee off the dresser and called out on my way down the stairs to let Ben know I was ready.  He came down the hall from his office with a thick leather-bound folder under his arm, meeting me at the bottom of the steps.  He stopped and stared at me.

“Jesus you’re beautiful.”

“New dress.” I explained and started for the kitchen to put my cup in the sink.

“No, hold on.” He caught me, his hand on my hip turning me to face him and he dropped the folder onto the stairs.

I looked into his eyes and my heart leapt.

“It’s not your dress or your shoes or your make-up, it’s you.” His hands tightened on my waist, “Sometimes, I can hardly breathe when I think about how lucky I am.  With every day that passes you become more beautiful to me, more captivating, more exhilarating and I don’t mean just sex.  It’s everything, your mind, how you make me laugh, the way injustice makes you rage and your open heart; you make me feel _alive_ and that’s the most exciting thing about being in love with you, the way it makes me look forward to the future, eager to see what’s going to come next for us.”

“I…” I blinked back tears and tried again, “I swear Ben, sometimes I don’t even know how to respond to the things you say to me.  I know I make fun of you for talking too much but if for some reason I could never hold you in my arms again, your words would be enough.  Being loved by you is enough.  I don’t need anything else, ever.”

Resting his chin on my shoulder, he wrapped me in his arms and I relaxed into him.  I thought about our life, about what we were doing today and why we were doing it.  I felt fulfilled when I could give him what he wanted and it wasn’t that my needs didn’t count just as highly, but in this case, when it came to our wedding I would take a step back.  Not completely out of the picture - I’d still be firm about what was really important to me - but I was doing this for him and I was sure if the shoe was on the other foot, he’d do the same.  I tilted my head back, and gazed up at him.

“Kiss me.”

“Your wish is my command.” He said, his lips brushing softly and all too briefly over mine.

I frowned, “What do you call that then?”

He grinned, “I didn’t want to mess your lipstick.”

“I have more lipstick.  I only have one you.”

I slipped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him to me, pushing my tongue into his mouth, silently demanding what I wanted and his hands flexed on my back.  He rested his forehead on mine and exhaled slowly.

“We’d better go.”

I giggled at the rasp in his voice, “You’re so easy.”

“And you’re,” he paused, “I was going to say you’re awful and I suppose sometimes you are but I wouldn’t want you to change.  I think you’re perfect, just the way you are.”

I shook my head, “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Call you perfect?”

“Yes.  It’s too much to live up to.  No one’s perfect.”

“What?” He exclaimed, making me laugh, “You call me perfect and I know you mean it because you’re a terrible liar.”

I fingered his tie and smiled into his eyes, “I’ll admit, you come closer than anyone else I know.”

He smiled back and his voice got soft, “You’re perfect for me, that’s all I meant.  And I have fairly exacting standards, just so you know.”  

I couldn’t help it, I kissed him again.  Then I asked him if he was being so lovely on purpose, trying to lull me into letting him get away with all sorts of nonsense with the wedding plans.  He didn’t answer, he just grinned at me and retrieved the leather folder from the stairs.

“Ready to go?”

“Yes, I just need to grab my laptop.”

He looked uncomfortable, “So, um, did I mention the club doesn’t have Wifi?”

“No.”

“Is that a problem?” He scrunched his nose apologetically.

“Luckily for you, I have most of the important stuff saved in a file or you’d be in so much trouble when we get home.” I grinned, “I’m beginning to think you’re trying to get me riled up on purpose.”

I went into the dining room to grab my computer, smiling to myself when he said under his breath, “Twice in one day?  As if I’d be that stupid.”

We took his car and I sat back in my seat watching him drive, his focus intense as the wipers whipped back and forth, last night’s rain not having let up at all and he only became more cautious as the traffic got heavier.  He scanned from side to side, slowing to avoid splashing puddles onto the crowds of people walking from shop to shop and trying to locate an open parking spot.  Being Saturday, it was busy and we ended up a fair distance from the jewelry store, though Ben had offered to drop me at the door and run back to meet me.

“I wouldn’t have moved to London if I was afraid of a little rain.”

He looked out at the water sheeting down the windscreen and raised an eyebrow, “A little rain?”

“O.K.” I conceded, “It’s pouring, but we have an umbrella.”

“Stay put,” he said, reaching for his door handle after he’d parked, “I’ll come ‘round.”

He got the umbrella out of the boot and opened it, holding it over me and offering me his hand to manoeuvre my way out of the low slung Jag in my heels.  I flipped my hair into the collar of my coat and he put the arm holding the umbrella around me so I’d stay dry as we walked the several blocks to the jewelry store.  Pushing the heavy wooden outer door open, I reached for the inner one, only to find it wouldn’t budge.

“Hold on,” Ben said, “it’s a security door.” He closed the umbrella, dropping it into the stand provided and pushed a button next to the doorframe.

“Yes?” came a voice through the intercom.

“Cumberbatch.  Massimo is expecting me.”

I looked sideways at Ben as the door buzzed and we went through.

“What?” he asked.

“Fancy.” I explained, “I’ve never been in a jewelry store like this.”

He smiled, “Having seen what you call jewelry, I’d be surprised if you’ve been in one at all.”

“Seriously Cumberbatch, I’m going to pinch you if you keep this up.”

He chuckled, steering me toward the rear of the spacious store, past display cases glittering with gems, other customers speaking in hushed tones with the sales staff. 

Looking around, something occurred to me and I couldn’t believe it was the first time I’d thought of it, “Ben, how do we stop other people from saying anything about our plans, like the jeweler or the wedding planners?”

He looked pleased to be able to set my mind at ease, “Non-disclosure agreements.  Robert’s office has been in contact with both of the planners and they had to sign before they were told whom they were meeting with.  And I trust Massimo.  He made your engagement ring for me and he’s used to dealing with high end clientele.  He and his staff would never talk to a reporter.”  He searched my face, knowing how I felt about the intrusive nature of the tabloids, “Alright?”

I nodded slowly, “I think so.”

He sighed, “We can’t operate in a vacuum though.  Some details will get out eventually.”

“I don’t doubt it.” I took his hand and pressed my lips to his palm, “But I also know you’ll protect my privacy as best you can.”

He held my face in his hands and kissed me soundly, “I will.  I absolutely will.”

A short, dapper man in shirtsleeves and pinstriped waistcoat came out of the back room and greeted Ben with a hug.

“Good to see you again Benedict, and this must be your bride to be.” He said in faintly Italian accented English.

“Massimo, this is Kai MacBeth,” he made the introductions, “Kai, Massimo Tonino, jeweler extraordinaire.”

We shook hands and I said, “Call me Kai, please.  You made my engagement ring?”

He nodded, “I go by Max, and yes, I did make your ring.  Are you happy with it?”

“It’s beautiful and I appreciate that you took into account that I work with my hands when you designed the setting.”

Smiling proudly, he answered, “Benedict explained and I designed to order, though truthfully, the setting is mostly original and I merely affixed it to a new, slightly sturdier band for security.  May I see?”

I held my left hand out and he took it, turning it from side to side, “Hmm…your hands are strong but fairly small.  Depending on the wedding ring you choose, I may have to make some modifications so they fit together and aren’t taking up your whole finger.”

Ben snorted, “Don’t worry Max, she’ll probably try to pick the thinnest, plainest, least glamourous thing in the place.”

“I might,” I admitted, “and if I do, you’ll be quiet and let me, right?” I asked, fixing him with a look.

“No, I won’t as a matter of fact.” He answered, giving me the same look, “I want you to have a band that does justice to that engagement ring.  It was my great grandmother’s; it’s a family heirloom and it deserves to be matched with something equally beautiful.”

Max distracted me before I could answer, perhaps intentionally in order to avert an argument.  My hand still in his, he pointed to my wrist where I wore the first present Ben had ever given me.

“I also made this bracelet.  I remember when you bought it,” he looked at Ben, “how you said it was for someone very special.”

“It was,” Ben put his arm around me, “though at the time I had no idea how special she truly was.”

“Good one.” I said.

“I thought so.” He agreed, his eyes creasing with a smile.

Max took a step back and swept his arm toward an open door, indicating we should follow him, “Perhaps we start by seeing what you like, yes?  Come with me.”

Stepping through the door ahead of Ben, I let my hand fall from his back to pinch his bum.  He jumped and looked at me, a huge grin on his face while I pretended innocence.  Max led us to an office containing a small table with two chairs on one side and one on the other.  There was an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne and a pair of crystal flutes that sparkled under the bright light hung dead centre over the table.

“Sit,” said Max, reaching for the bottle.

He popped the cork and poured us each a glass then sat down across from us.

“Now, did you have anything specific in mind?” He asked me.

I shook my head, “Not really.  Nothing too ornate; as Ben said, I prefer simple.”

“Then we’ll start with these,” turning to the side he retrieved a black velvet tray which he set on the table.  With a flourish, he lifted away the cloth covering the tray and I blinked as the stones reflected the light, “have a look and feel free to try on any that you like.”

I was momentarily frozen, awed by the rows of rings before me, like nothing I’d ever considered before.  A very small number were plain but most were encrusted with gems large enough that I would have called them rocks.  I quickly regained my composure when one in particular caught my eye.  At first glance I thought it was another diamond band and nearly skipped past it but when I looked more closely, I saw that what had looked like single gems were actually tiny flowers made up of incredibly sparkly diamond petals and in the centre of each, a little dark blue sapphire.  I picked it up and slid it onto my finger.  I examined my hand, wiggling my fingers under the light and I looked up at Ben.

“This one.”

He started laughing, “This is only the first tray,” he said, pointing at the row of velvet boxes on the shelf next to Massimo, “don’t you want to at least look at the other ones?”

“No.”

He took my hand in his and looked at it closely, then he looked into my eyes, “You’re sure?”

I nodded, laying my hand on his arm and said softly, “This is the one.”

“I believe the lady has decided.”

“When you know, you know.” Max said, “May I see?”

I gave have him my hand and he carefully moved the two rings around, seeing how the point of the diamond on my engagement ring kept catching on the stones surrounding the band.

“Hmm,” he said, “We need to go down one size, then I think the best way to do this is to remove one of the flowers and make a notch in the band, yes?  That way they’ll sit together.  We can even attach one to the other, once you’re married,” he clarified, “so they don’t move around too much and you can still work with them on.  How does that sound?”

“That sounds ideal Max, thank you.” I said, removing the ring and passing it back to him.

He shrugged, dismissing my thanks, “It’s an easy fix.  I’ll just make a note…”

He scrawled on the outside of a little envelope and dropped the ring inside, sealing it and putting it to one side.

“And now for you Ben.  Any ideas?”

Ben laid his hand on the desk, “It has to go with this.” He said, tapping his pinkie finger where the silver band I’d given him always remained.

“Is silver, yes?”

“Yes and I only ever take it off when I’m filming.” He smiled at me, “I guess you could say it’s my engagement ring.”

Max chuckled and turned around, reaching back for another tray, “No problem.  Platinum then, like Kai’s engagement ring.”

Having made my own decision so quickly, I wasn’t prepared for how long it took Ben to find his ring.  Part of the problem was simply the way his hands were built.  His fingers were so ridiculously long that most of the rings just looked too thin and insubstantial, especially next to the ring I’d given him, which was quite a thick band.

Max had left the room for a moment, to retrieve another ring he thought might be more suitable.   Ben flapped his hand from side to side, the band he was trying on moving up and down on his finger.

“It’s my knuckles.” He complained, “They’re too big and knobbly.”

I reached for his hand, pushing my fingers through his, “They’re not.  You have beautiful hands and I love your knuckles.”

“Oh, you do not; you’re just trying to make me feel better.” He said, frowning down at our entwined hands.

“No,” I leaned in close and said, “I love it when your big, knobbly knuckles slide inside me.”

“Kai!” His eyes flicked toward the door and back to mine.

“It’s true,” I whispered, “I love the way your long, long fingers feel as they…”

He silenced me the fastest way he knew how, his lips coming down on mine as I laughed, and one of those beautiful hands in my hair, holding me to him.  Max cleared his throat as he came back through the door and smiled at us as he sat down.  Picking up my champagne, I smiled back, sure he was thinking he’d interrupted a romantic moment and not Ben trying to shut me up so I wouldn’t embarrass him.

“I think this may fit you better.” Max said, handing Ben another ring.

Ben slid it onto his finger, his eyebrows rising as he held his hand up to show me.  It was much wider than the regular wedding rings we’d been looking at, a broad, flat band with rounded edges and it sat almost perfectly on his finger with the silver band I’d given him butting up against the lower edge like they were made to be worn together.  Ben smiled as I nodded at him.

“Yes, thank you Max, this is just the thing.”

Suddenly, I felt Ben’s phone vibrating, where his leg rested against mine.  He pulled it from his pocket and squinted at the display.

“I’m so sorry, I have to take this.  I’ll keep it short.” He said to me, getting up and walking out the door as he answered.

I was actually thrilled at the interruption.  I’d been thinking I’d have to make a trip back here because there was something I wanted Massimo to do for me.

“Max,” I said quickly, taking my bracelet off and offering it to him, “do you think you could duplicate this pattern with little diamonds on the inside of Ben’s ring?”

He looked over his shoulder, ensuring Ben was out of earshot, “No problem.  I can set the stones into the band such a way that they won’t interfere with the fit.  We’re lucky he needs such a wide ring; I’ll have enough room to replicate the design.”

“Do you need to take a photo, or...?”

“No, I have the original design on file, I can work from that.”

“And you’ll bill me separately, so it stays a surprise?”

“Absolutely.”

I dug my wallet from my purse and passed him my business card which he slid into his pocket just as Ben returned.  We finished the paperwork, said goodbye to Max and made our way quickly along the wet pavement to the car.  As we sat, waiting for the windows to defog, Ben turned to look at me.

“You surprised me today, choosing that particular ring.”

“Because it’s covered in diamonds and doesn’t look like it came from a car boot sale?”

“Yes.” He laughed, “And - don’t get me wrong, I’m quite pleased - but for once, you didn’t ask how much something cost.” 

I said softly, “I suppose it’s the flowers that appealed to me and it looked right somehow with this one,” I pointed at my ring finger, “but more importantly, it felt right.  And that matters because from the day you put it on my finger, I’ll never take it off.  I guess it didn’t occur to me to ask what it cost because it’s the most important thing you’ll ever give me.”

He leaned across the car and kissed me, then he said, “You’re getting ever so much better at the whole being romantic thing.  I’m beginning to think I might get a real wedding out of you yet.”

“Don’t hold your breath my love, if were up to me, I’d still be planning to do it at home.”

Sitting back in his seat he answered, “If you’d let me buy us that farm, we could have.  It was nearly large enough.”

I didn’t say a word, letting a roll of my eyes be his answer and he pulled out into traffic.  We’d left the store in plenty of time to get across town to Ben’s club, even with him driving like an old woman in the rain but even so, when we walked around the corner from where we’d parked the car, Charlie was waiting for us on the front stairs, fuming under his umbrella.

“They wouldn’t even let me into the foyer to wait.” He grouched.

Ben apologized, explaining it was club rules that guests couldn’t enter without the member sponsoring them.

“Oh I know the bloody rules,” Charlie said, “Andy’s a member here, but still…”

“Andy’s a member?” I was still amazed that anyone I knew would want to be.

“Yes and his father and grandfather before him.  I’ve even been here with him but they still wouldn’t let me in out of the rain.”

“Come on,” Ben said, “let’s go inside and get a good, stiff drink to warm up.”

The porter greeted Ben with great formality, signing us in and taking our damp coats.  Ben reminded the porter that we had another guest joining us shortly and then led us through the club toward the bar while I tried not to goggle like a tourist at the ornate woodwork and the paintings virtually covering every wall.

He noticed my reaction, “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I have to admit, it’s a wonderful old building.  I’m sure it’s full of wonderful old men too.” I said with gentle sarcasm.

“Not all the members are old.  I met Stephen Fry when I was here with Andy.” Charlie poked me in the arm as we walked into the bar.

“He’s a member here?” 

Both Ben and Charlie knew how much I adored Stephen Fry.  Our mutual admiration of all things Fry had been one of the first things Charlie and I had bonded over.  I had all his books and Ben had found me more than once, hunched over my laptop and snickering to myself as I watched old episodes of ‘QI’ on YouTube.

“He is.” Ben confirmed with a satisfied expression on his face, “Re-thinking your previous opinion of the club?”

“Re-thinking my previous opinion of Stephen Fry.” I said dryly.

“He was very kind but I was barely able to speak!” Charlie enthused.

Our table was tucked into the back corner, a white card with Ben’s name in ornate script marking it as reserved.  Ben asked what we wanted to drink and went up to the bar.

“I was so tongue tied,” Charlie continued his tale, “Andy kept having to elbow me in the ribs to remind me to answer whenever Stephen asked a question!”

I smiled, trying to picture Charlie speechless, “I know exactly what that’s like.”

“Haven’t you got used to meeting famous people by now?”

“You must be joking.  Every time we go to an event and I meet someone new, it’s the same thing.  I don’t know if it’ll ever feel normal.”

“I would have thought, being with Ben…”

“You’d think so, but no.  I think I’m used to it, being with someone who’s famous and that he’s just my Ben, but even now, if we’re out in public and someone asks for a picture or we’re attending an event and I watch him being interviewed, it’s a sharp reminder of what he does, of who he is.  And when he introduces me to someone I recognize, especially if it’s someone whose work I know and admire, it’s still enough to make me feel like an imposter, like somebody’s going to point me out and say ‘What’s she doing here?’  That’s one of the reasons I’m so grateful to you Charlie, for all the time you’ve put into making me look good when we’re going out.  At least I look the part, even if I don’t quite feel like I fit in.”

He reached across the table and patted my arm, “I’ve seen pictures of the two of you out together and you’ve nothing to worry about.  You never look like you don’t belong.”

“I’m very happy to hear that.  I can’t look at the pictures myself.  It’s too weird and I’m my own worst critic; all I ever see is what’s wrong.”

He looked at me sympathetically, “Like what?”

“Like, my hair isn’t doing what I wanted it to or I’m standing funny or my smile looks forced and is that my bra strap showing?” I huffed impatiently at my own insecurity. “Worst of all though, is worrying that I’m going to give anyone reason to criticize Ben.”

“Oh stop it.  You’ve always looked great in any of the pictures I’ve seen and anyone with eyes can see that the two of you are crazy about each other.  More importantly, when did you start caring what other people think?  You know how he feels about you and that’s the only thing that should matter.”

It was wonderful how he was defending me to myself and I smiled, “In my mind, it’s easy to remember that, but I can’t help feeling a certain amount of pressure anyway.  I’ll tell you Charlie, talking about wedding plans and having words like ‘non-disclosure agreement’ and ‘security’ thrown around,” I shook my head, “it’s nuts.  Daunting.”

“I can’t even imagine.  But in the end, none of those things are what’s important Kai.  Focus on what is: you’re marrying a wonderful man who wants nothing more than to see you happy.  He won’t force you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I know.  But Charlie,” I looked down at my hands, “I don’t want to let him down.”

Charlie snorted derisively, “You couldn’t let him down.  You could show up for the BAFTAs chewing on a kebab and cleaning your ear with your car keys and he’d think it was hilarious.  That man would forgive you anything.”

I was glad to hear someone besides Ben himself say something like that.  It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him when he said it but it was, nevertheless, reassuring to know that my friend could see it too.

Chuckling at Charlie’s imagery, I asked, “You think?”

He leaned across the table, his voice dropping conspiratorially, “You know how you sometimes meet a couple and just being in the same room with them, you can _feel_ how in love they are?”

Knowing exactly what he meant, I nodded.

“Well you’re like that.  It’s rather sick-making.  But even worse is the sex.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“It’s unmistakable.  Your physical attraction to each other comes off you in waves.”

I stared at him, mortified, “You’re not serious.”

“I bloody am,” He said, clearly entertained by my reaction, “I’m not saying you’re inappropriate in public or anything, I’m simply pointing out that it’s blindingly obvious that the two of you have a very healthy sexual interest in each other.”

I covered my face with my hands, “Jesus Christ.”

Charlie was still laughing at me when Ben set our drinks on the table and sat down.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’ve just been telling Kai how everyone in the world knows about your sex life.”

Ben nearly spat out his mouthful of vodka, “What?”

“It’s like you’re both on heat all the time.” Charlie said cheerily, “One can practically smell the pheromones oozing from your pores.”

Ben, momentarily stunned, stared at him then turned to me, “Why’s your face all red?”

“Because I…I mean, well…” I didn’t know what to say.

“You’re the one who talks to her friend about our sex life.” He said reasonably, “And you said you wouldn’t mind if I’d discussed it with mine.”

“That’s hardly the same thing!  Charlie’s talking about _people_ , as in the guy at the check out counter and your dentist’s Mum.”

“It’s not as though there’s anything we can do about it; it's not intentional.”

“I suppose not but never occurred to me that anyone had noticed.”

“It hadn’t to me either, but it’s something to consider the next time you decide to start talking dirty to me at, say, the jeweller’s?”

His mouth curved crookedly and I grinned back, “Alright, you may have a point there.  I could probably be a little more discreet.”

Under the table cloth, his hand came to rest on my upper thigh, “Perhaps, but I didn’t say you should stop.”

“Good, because I’m not going to.”

“Ahem.” Charlie cleared his throat theatrically to get our attention, “You do realize I’m still here, don’t you?  And you wonder why I said you were obvious.”

“Oh my god,” I laughed, “we’re completely hopeless, aren’t we?”

“Yes.” Charlie took a sip of his Bloody Mary, sighed with satisfaction and leaned forward, his elbows on the table, changing the subject, “Now, tell me about the ring shopping.”

“There’s not much to tell really,” Ben said, “we went in, she picked up one ring and said she’d decided.”

“Let me guess, plain band?”

“As a matter of fact, no.” I corrected him, “Diamonds and sapphires.  Lots of them.”

Charlie looked at me, amazement on his face, “I don’t believe it.  Are you sure Ben didn’t choose it?”

Ben grinned.

“No, it was all her.” He looked at me, “I hope you still like it when you see it again.” 

“I will.” I assured him.

He turned to Charlie to explain, “She made up her mind so quickly I barely had time to blink.”

Taking Ben’s hand, I said, “I know what I like.  I made up my mind about you just as quickly and look how nicely that’s turned out.”

He squeezed my hand before turning back to Charlie, “Are you looking forward to Tuesday?”

“I am now.  Maybe I’ll get just as lucky with her choosing her dress.  Though somehow, I doubt it.”

“So do I.” I said with a straight face and Charlie groaned.

“Anyway, before we get to that, there’s today to get through.  And don’t worry Ben, Kai’s read me the riot act about taking over.  I’m here simply to observe and advise.”

“I think we both know you’re here so she doesn’t feel outnumbered.” Ben answered drily.

Raising my gin and tonic to my lips, I saw the porter escorting a woman through the bar in our direction.  She was impeccably put together, probably in her mid-fifties with a huge leather purse over one arm and wearing a knit suit that even I recognized as classic Chanel.  As soon as she saw Ben, she impatiently cut around the porter and stalked ahead of him to the table.

“Mr. Cumberbatch,” she extended her hand, “I’m Erika DeYoung.”

As she spoke I watched her mouth, deep red lipstick applied with precision over her thin lips and wondered why the dark mole on her cheek that should rightfully be called a beauty mark, somehow appeared calculated for attention.  Her dark hair was cut in a sleek bob as sharp and business-like as her tone of voice.  I decided that the humidity outside was too intimidated by her to try and make her hair frizzy.  I stood to introduce myself, stealthily wiping my suddenly clammy palm on my skirt first, and we sat while she took her iPad and phone from her bag, aligning them precisely in front of her.

“Could I get you a drink before we get started?” Ben offered.

“Hot water with lemon, thank you.” She answered.

She’d barely looked up from her bag from which she was extracting a thick folder, and as Ben walked away he turned to look back at me with raised eyebrows.  I was glad it wasn’t just me that was having this immediate reaction and pasted a polite smile on my face as she placed a book approximately the size of the Encyclopædia Britannica next to the iPad.

“Sample invitations.” Erika explained, tapping the cover with a fingernail and she shot a laser sharp look toward Charlie “And you are?”

“Charlie Keating.  I’m their friend and her stylist.” Charlie answered politely but his posture was a little more rigid than normal.

This woman’s attitude was beginning to get under my skin.

“I asked Mr. Keating to come along because he has more experience with weddings than I do, and he’ll be helping me choose my dress.”

“I see.  I would have assumed you were hiring me because I have the experience with weddings.” She said archly, and Ben, who was placing her cup and saucer on the table, nearly dropped it at her tone. 

He caught in time so it only rattled and she slowly turned her head, looking first at the cup, then at Ben and I could practically feel her sense of superiority; weirdly, it was as though she was enjoying our discomfort. 

“And I would have assumed my manager’s office made it clear this was an interview.” He said as he took his seat, his eerily calm voice raising the hair on the back of my neck, “We haven’t hired you yet.”

She held Ben’s gaze and answered, “Mr. Cumberbatch, I was told you had a large wedding to plan in very short order and that you needed the services of a professional.  That’s what I am.  I have an extremely efficient staff of assistants and do more than one hundred weddings per year.  The custom I receive is based upon my reputation and I’m unused to being interviewed in advance.”

“How unfortunate.  I certainly hope you don’t feel we’re wasting your time.” He said and I saw Charlie lift his glass to his lips, hiding a smile.

“Time is exactly the issue,” she answered and I noticed she didn’t deny his suggestion, “I don’t think you understand what goes into organizing a wedding and I was under the impression we would be starting that process today.”

“I’m terribly sorry if you feel misled,” Ben said, his politeness, in typical British fashion, increasing as his annoyance grew, “but you’re only the first of our meetings today.  We’ll make our final decision as soon as we possibly can but surely you of all people understand how stressful planning a wedding is and that we need to be sure we’re choosing the right person to work with us?”

She took a sip from her hot water and regarded us over the rim of the cup.  I couldn’t read anything in her face and had no idea what she was thinking.

“My job is to remove the stress from the situation by ensuring that everything that needs doing is taken care of with a minimum of fuss.”

She sounded a little more conciliatory and Charlie, who had been watching the exchange between Erika and Ben like it was the finals at Wimbledon, seemed to think the worst had passed and took the opportunity to excuse himself to go to the loo.

“You were recommended by a friend of mine, whose wedding I attended.” Ben told her, “It was a wonderful day and they couldn’t have been happier.”

“I’ve no doubt.” She answered, “That’s what happens when my couples follow the rules and do what’s asked of them.  The only time I’ve ever had any difficulties is when the clients haven’t been compliant.”

I nearly choked, “Compliant?”

“Sticking with the timelines I set, arranging their agendas to accommodate meetings, that sort of thing.”

Ben was leaning back in his chair so I couldn’t see his face but I could feel his tension, even as his hand moved in slow circles at the small of my back, trying to soothe my growing agitation. 

She went on, “I need to ask; why does this wedding have to happen so quickly?”

“Ben’s schedule for the next year is packed and we’d rather not wait.”

I found myself wondering why I felt like I needed to apologize for our haste.

“I see.” She breezed past my explanation, “I have to say, I am accustomed to being involved in the bride’s dress selection.  What I’m not accustomed to is having an unnecessary ‘friend and stylist’ foisted upon me as part of my team.  Is there a particular reason you’re excluding me from that process?”

“Charlie is one of the most talented stylists working in London today.” I spat, getting tired of her holier-than-thou attitude. “Anyone with any sense at all would consider it an honour to have him dress them for their wedding.  What are you insinuating?”

She barely blinked at my outburst, looking me up and down, assessing my appearance, “I have a photographer on staff.  We could do your pictures early, before you really start showing.” 

I was speechless.  Charlie, who had just returned to the table, was standing with his mouth hanging open and as I turned to Ben I saw his jaw flex as he ground his teeth.  I didn’t know what she’d expected to happen but in attempting to impress her expertise upon us, she’d completely missed the mark.  The colour drained from her face when Ben spoke.

“Mrs. DeYoung,” he said icily, “our family plans and reasons for any other of our decisions are absolutely none of your business.  I’m sorry to have wasted your time but it’s clear that you are not the wedding planner for us.  Please collect your things and I’ll see you out.”

She stared at him as he rose to his feet and I could see she was trying to figure out a way to salvage the meeting but Ben refused to make eye contact with her, moving around the table to stand behind her chair and waiting while she packed her belongings back into her purse.  Without another word, he led her from the room.

“What a thoroughly unpleasant woman.” Charlie said with remarkable understatement into the astonished silence between us.

“How does she do a hundred weddings a year?  Why would anyone hire someone like that?”

Charlie shrugged, “Reputation?  No doubt her weddings are run with military precision because who would dare to mess up with her in charge?”

Ben came back into the room but instead of returning to the table, he stopped at the bar and spoke with the bartender who poured him a shot of clear liquid.  He lifted the glass to his lips, downing it in one go and even from across the room I saw his shoulders drop as he slowly exhaled.

“I’m so sorry.” He said to Charlie when he rejoined us.

“There’s no need for you to apologize and anyway, watching you throw her out of here has cheered me immensely.”

“Are you all right?” He asked me, concern deepening the lines around his eyes.

I could see he was worried, likely thinking that this experience would negatively affect my view of wedding planners in general. 

I gave his arm a squeeze to reassure him, “I’m fine love, now that she’s gone.  But I have to ask, you said she was recommended by a friend of yours?”

He rubbed his face with his hands and muttered, “Victoria.”

“Oh.  Well, that makes sense.”

“In her defense, she was employed at an import/export company before she and Oliver got married.  She travelled a lot for business and by his own admission, Ollie couldn’t have cared less about the details.  Victoria probably needed someone who’d take over and get things done.”

“I thought I did too, but honestly, I’m sort of glad it soured so quickly because I couldn’t work with someone like that.  I’d have thought even Victoria would know that.”

“I’m sure she didn’t do it on purpose.” He said.

“That’s not what I’m saying Ben, but Victoria and I are chalk and cheese.  We couldn’t be more different so it’s not a shock that what worked for her wouldn’t for me.”

With our first meeting cut short, the three of us enjoyed another cocktail and a leisurely lunch together.  Ben and Charlie got into a story telling competition about the worst photo shoots they’d each been through, Ben from the subject’s point of view and Charlie from the stylist’s.  There was a great deal of laughter as Ben explained terrible outfits or the crazy things they’d wanted him to do in a session, including the one that had resulted in him bleeding all over a £750 cashmere sweater and left him with the little scar under his chin.  Charlie in turn told outrageous tales of spoiled actors, happily naming names without any shame at all, arguing with Ben when he’d try to defend someone he knew.  It struck me again how different my life had been prior to meeting Ben, and as far as our jobs were concerned, how different it still was.  But since my story about the time we’d delivered an enormous load of steer manure fertilizer a day early, not knowing the client was hosting a garden party for her in-law’s anniversary didn’t seem quite in the same realm as Ben and Charlie’s stories, I sat back and listened happily while they entertained each other until the porter once again made an appearance, escorting our second guest of the day to the table.

While I wouldn’t have wanted to be considered judgemental, it was true that I tended to rely on my first impressions.  I’d been proven accurate earlier this afternoon and I was now hoping I would be again.  The little round woman who had just joined us looked exactly like the fairy godmother from a children’s book brought to life and I immediately felt at ease with her.  Her grey streaked blonde hair was knotted into a soft bun and she wore sensible brogues with her tweed skirt but topped it off with a bright pink twin-set that barely contained her enormous bosom.

When we were introduced, I called her Mrs. Glover but she asked us all to call her by her first name, Linda.  When I told her who Charlie was, her reaction was enough to make me want to hire her on the spot.

“Your name sounds familiar.”

Charlie told her the magazine he styled for but she shook her head, “No, that’s not it – wait – didn’t you style a bridal shoot last year in Hyde Park?”

“Yes!  That was mine.”

“I saw the photos in the dress designer’s booth at a bridal exposition.  Oh, well done you.  It was gorgeous.”

Charlie was clearly won over already and now Linda turned her attention back to me.

“So will you want me to help with your dress, or will that be Charlie?”

Still little gun-shy after what had occurred earlier, I said tentatively, “It was going to be Charlie and me and our friend Leah.”

“Lovely!  I have to tell you my dear,” she patted my arm, “that’s actually the most difficult and stressful part of my job.  If you’re in Charlie’s capable hands, it frees me up for other things.”

She reached for her teacup and went on, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll ask a few questions to get an idea of what we’re dealing with here.  How many guests?”

‘Of course she’d start with that’, I thought, immediately deflated after such a strong start.

“No more than a hundred.” Ben answered and I nearly put my neck out, my head swiveled so quickly.

“Since when?” I asked him.

“Since the moment I showed you my list and I saw your face.”

“And you didn’t think to share that little nugget of information?”

“I thought I might need to use it later as a bargaining chip but after our earlier debacle, I decided I’d better let you off the hook.” He grinned.

“Thank you Ben.  I know how important your friends are to you; it couldn’t have been easy, cutting so many names from your list.”

“It’s important to me that this wedding is for us both.” He said softly, taking my hand, “It can’t just be about you going along with everything I want in order to make me happy.”

He briefly outlined our situation to Linda, making sure she understood how different our views on marriage and weddings were so she’d know what she was getting into.  We talked about it for a while, answering her follow-up questions and in the end, she seemed amused by the whole idea, admitting that it was a bit of a role reversal.

“The good news is you both seem to have a grasp of not only what’s important to yourselves but to each other as well.” She broke a corner off her strawberry scone and popped it into her mouth, “I’m sure there are still some details you’re going to disagree on but at least you’re mature enough to understand negotiation.”

“Negotiation is her middle name.” Ben said.

“I’m very glad to hear it but it’s going to look a little odd on the invitations.” She smiled.

I interrupted their discussion, asking Linda to excuse us for a moment and Ben followed me from the bar.  We stopped in the entry way.

“What do you think?” I asked him.

“I think you’ve made up your mind already.”

“I like her Ben.”

“I do as well.  Shall we see if she’ll take us on?”

We went back to the table where Charlie and Linda were chatting.  Ben told her we’d very much like to work with her and asked if she felt the same.

“When I spoke with Robert, he led me to believe you were wanting to get married sooner rather than later.  Have you chosen a date?”

“January 5th, the first Saturday after the New Year.” I said.

She hesitated and my heart dropped.

“Oh dear.  I have three other weddings in December alone.  How firm is your date?”

“Kai’s family is coming over for Christmas and I doubt they can stay much beyond that.  I start filming in Prague in the middle of the month and go almost straight from that into another shoot.  If we don’t do it on the 5th, we’d have to wait until the end of summer and I’m sorry, but that’s not an option.”

Linda took that in, her fingers drumming on the table top.  She looked over at Charlie and her eyes narrowed in thought.

“I’m sure you’re a very busy man,” she said to him, “but if you could spare me a couple of hours a week in addition to dress duty, I can make this wedding happen for them.”

Charlie’s face lit up like a firework and he grabbed Linda’s hand, “Oh, yes please!”

She smiled at Ben and me, “That’s settled then.  We’ll have to meet in person from time to time and more frequently as the big day gets closer but much of what I need to do to get started can be handled by telephone or email.  No texting though,” she said firmly, raising her finger in the air, “it’s too easy to get one’s wires crossed.”

We all exchanged contact information and Ben went to sign for the bar bill before we left the club as a group, quickly saying our good byes on the pavement before we scattered, Ben and I running through the rain to the car.  I couldn’t stop smiling but Ben didn’t mention it until we were home and I was sitting on the sofa.  He’d poured us each a glass of whiskey and joined me.

“What a day this has been!”

He raised his glass and I tapped mine against it.

“Even that nasty woman wasn’t enough to ruin it.”

He put his arm around my shoulders, “I was so proud of you today, the way you didn’t let her performance put you off our second meeting.”

“It might have done if you hadn’t gotten so angry first.  It completely sidetracked me.”

He pressed his lips to my temple and I could hear the smile in his voice, “Still on about that are you?”

“I can’t help it.  I thought at first it was a ‘Benedict’ thing but now I’m not so sure.  Yes, your voice changes,” I said quietly, “but there’s something…the energy you give off even as you’re trying to hold it in is almost palpable.  It’s like foreplay for me.” 

“Hmm.” His hand started to move in my hair as he thought out loud, “There’s a word you’ve used to say how it feels when you make me lose control – in bed I mean – and I’ve used it too, to describe what it feels like when I can make you go completely to pieces.”

“Powerful.” I said.

“That’s right, so maybe what you’re feeling when I’m trying not to lose my temper is similar to how it is when I’m right on the edge of losing control during sex?”

I turned my head to look into his eyes, “What an interesting theory.  I wonder if we should try it out?  You know, while the memory of this afternoon is still fresh in my mind?”

“Normally I’m up for anything,” his eyes sparkled, “but I’m in far too good a mood to get irritated just so we can experiment.”

“I thought you said you were an actor.”

He snorted with laughter, “That’s my job.”

“You could pretend.” I suggested, smoothing my hand down his thigh.

“I don’t think I could.” He answered seriously, “What you are to me is entirely too real for me to ever pretend with you.”

I took his glass and set it on the table with my own.  Standing up, I reached for his hands and pulled him to his feet, bringing his arms around my waist and holding them there so we were pressed tightly together.

“But you see Ben, the next time you get angry, I’m going to need something to compare it to.  I think I’m going to have to make you lose control.”

“Just to be sure you remember how it feels, I assume?”

“Yes, partly that.” I stretched up to kiss his supple lips, “But mostly because I like it.”

Reaching up to his broad shoulders, I slid his jacket off and reached for his tie.  Taking my time unbuttoning his shirt, I kept my eyes on his, and he asked why I was smiling.

“We’re breathing in sync.”

“Happens all the time.”

“Does it?” I asked.

“Yes, when we’re watching telly together on the sofa or reading in bed, it’ll get quiet in the room.  I can’t hear you because we’re breathing in time with each other.”

“I know.  I just didn’t know you knew.”

“I like it.  It’s cozy.”

I chuckled, “Cozy wasn’t really what I was aiming for just now.”

“Well, it’s cozy when we’re reading.  Just now, it’s very sexy.” He assured me.

I squinted at him and said, “You’re right, you can’t pretend with me.  That was terrible.”

“Sorry.  I’ll lie harder next time.”

“Don’t bother.  I’m pretty sure I can take cozy right out of this equation.”

I hiked my skirt above my knees and wound my arms around his neck.

“Pick me up.”

He ran his hands down my back to grip my bum and I hopped up, my legs tight around his waist.

“Upstairs.” I ordered.

We didn’t even make it to the bedroom door before he had me up against the wall, his mouth moving eagerly on mine and his hands on my thighs, pushing my skirt higher.

“Sweet Jesus,” he broke away, panting, “are you wearing a suspender belt?”

I nodded and saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.  He looked down, fingering the clip at my stocking top.

“This, I need to see.” He said, carrying me through the door and setting me on my feet.

I took his hands, making quick work of his cufflinks and he pulled his shirt off.  As he reached for me, I put my hand against his belly and pushed him back to sit on the bed.  Stepping back, I undid the zipper at the side of my dress and wriggled out of it, hearing his quick intake of breath as it fell to the floor.

I was wearing the first lingerie I’d ever bought with him in mind, the white lace panties and matching bra with bows decorating the straps and this morning, even though we were running late I’d taken the time to add the garter belt and a pair of sheer stockings.  Knowing he’d see me standing before him like this once we got home had been in the back of my mind all day and I was very pleased to see him react just how I’d been hoping.  His lips were slightly parted as his eyes moved down my body and back to my face.

“Will you leave it on?”

“I will, if that’s what you want.”

He nodded, “Yes, all of it.”

I went to him, standing between his legs and ran my fingers through his hair.

“Even my shoes?” I asked, teasing as I looked down at him.

“Fuck yes.  Especially your shoes.”

His hands were stroking up and down the backs of my legs and I bent to kiss him, pushing my tongue into his mouth, running it along the edge of his teeth and I sucked at his full lower lip until his fingers flexed on my skin.  I leaned into him, pressing him onto his back, his legs hanging over the edge of the bed.  I kissed my way down his smoothly muscled torso, opened his belt and trousers and stretched out beside him, slipping my hand inside and squeezing him through his pants.  I could feel him hardening in my hand as I licked his nipple and blew a stream of cool breath over it before taking it in my mouth and circling with the tip of my tongue.  He sighed and I looked up at him.

“I love it when you whisper my name like that.  I want to hear it over and over and over.”

I reached into his boxer shorts, enclosing him in my fingers.

“I’m going to make you come now.”

“What, right this second?”

He thought I was still teasing, but I was dead serious.

“Yes, right now.  Let’s see how many ways I can make it happen for you.”

“I think,” he groaned as I squeezed him harder, “we probably know how many ways.”

“Let’s see how many times.” His eyes widened as I spoke, “I’ll start with my hands, then the second time, maybe my mouth?  And I think for the third one, I’ll have to get really creative.”

“Jesus.” He groaned again as my hand began to move up and down his length.

When he tried to push his trousers off, I stopped him.  There was something mildly illicit about the feeling of my hand jammed into his clothing and I liked it.

“Don’t.” I pressed my lips to his, “Leave them on.  It makes me feel like we’re doing something wrong.”

He was moving into my hand, rolling his hips as I varied my stroke and I kept talking to him, my voice low, slowly laying out a scenario for him.

“Close your eyes Ben, imagine with me.  We’re at a party at someone’s house.  You watched me getting ready so you knew what I was wearing under my dress and it’s been driving you crazy.  All night long you’ve been waiting, watching, wondering how soon we could leave.  And then I got you alone, backed you into a corner and started touching you through your clothes.” I broke off and studied his face, my hand curled around his thick shaft, making ever quicker spirals.  When his brow furrowed, I went on, “I told you I knew what you wanted and I wanted it too so we snuck off to the bedroom.  Now I’ve got you lying half naked on a pile of other people’s coats and the door’s not locked.” I kissed his throat, biting along his collar bone and sucked a red mark onto his chest, “Anyone could come in.  We could get caught any minute but all I can think about is your cock in my hand and what it’s going to feel like when you come all over yourself.”

He grunted and his back arched, “Kai, oh god.”

I watched his face contort, sudden wetness flooding my hand, “Yes Ben, like that.”

We kissed, my fingers still moving on his skin, hot and slippery.  When the tension left his body, leaving him pliant and relaxed, I got up to get a warm cloth and washed him clean, finally helping him out of the rest of his clothes.

Pulling me close, kissing my shoulder, he said, “That was…”

I cut him off, “That was just the beginning.”

It took him longer the second time, especially because I gave him no time to recover.  I moved straight down the bed and the breath hissed through his teeth as I took him in my mouth.  He was still sensitive from the first orgasm and normally, I’d have waited but not tonight.  I was gentle but I didn’t let him pull away as my mouth enveloped him all the way to his groin.  I lay beside him, my head on his belly and his hands already in my hair, lightly rubbing my scalp as I sucked him back to hardness.  He swelled between my lips, his length reaching the back of my throat and I took him in my hand, holding him while I shifted around on the bed.  Turning so I was facing his feet, I threw my leg over him and bent forward, my breasts pressed into his belly and my ass in the air.  He swore and his hands gripped my hips, pulling me back, closer to him.

Wrapping my arms around his legs, I drew him in, bathing his shaft with saliva and sucking hard.  One of his hands remained on my bum, the other fondling the insides of my thighs, lightly grazing my pussy through my underwear on every upstroke until, growing frustrated, I stopped with just the head of his cock still in my mouth.  I held him there until he slipped his fingers past the lace, barely making contact.  He waited for me to slide my lips back down his shaft then he began to move in my wetness, the pad of his middle finger slightly rough as it swirled over my clitoris.  Sighing contentedly, I matched the rhythm of his hand, my attention perfectly divided between the pleasure I gave and that I received.  Reaching down, I cupped his balls, rolling them in my palm and his bum came up off the bed.

I released him from the tight suction of my mouth and looked back at him over my shoulder.  He looked drunk with arousal.

“Why’d you stop?” He managed to gasp.

“You’ve got two hands Ben; would you mind using them both?  Pretty please?”

His lopsided grin was all the confirmation I needed and I turned back around, dropped my head and sucked him all the way in.  He pushed first one, then slowly, two fingers inside me, at the same time increasing the pressure on my clit with his other hand.  I redoubled my efforts, breathing hard through my nose as he rose to meet me, fucking my mouth in time with his fingers in my pussy and now I could taste him on my tongue.  He cried out, his whole body going rigid beneath me, filling my mouth and I swallowed him down as he shuddered and twitched.

I expected him to be completely spent and I was prepared to wait for my own release but he wasn’t.  He reared up, grabbing me around the waist and flipped me onto my back.  Grasping my stockinged legs firmly, he lifted them to his shoulders and slithered down my body, landing between my thighs.  He took a long lick, his tongue pressing between my swollen lips, finding my clit and drawing it into his mouth.  He slipped his fingers back inside me and I groaned, crossing my ankles behind his back and holding him right where he was.  He’d found my sweet spot, stroking hard up and forward, his tongue still sweeping back and forth on my clit and I wasn’t going to let go until he finished me.  It didn’t take long.  The glorious heat of his mouth, the wet slap of his fingers moving inside me, his contented crooning all combining perfectly with my already fevered state and I was gone, throwing my head back with a final groan of pure fulfillment.

He dropped a row of kisses all the way up to my mouth and curled himself around me, his head tucked into my neck and we drifted, quiet, until he reached back, pulling the duvet over us and I realized he was falling asleep.  I turned my head, pressing my lips to his forehead and he opened his eyes to give me a sleepy smile.

“Well, that was a good start.” I said cheerfully, sitting up. “I’m going to go make us a snack.  I’ll be right back.”

“Did you say, ‘a good start’?” 

“Yup.  I think there’s some smoked salmon left.  How do you feel about scrambled eggs?”

I hopped up and, still wearing nothing but lingerie and high heels, headed for the door.

“Kai?  If you’re going to cook…”

I turned and looked at him, “Yes?”

“For Christ’s sake, put on an apron.”

I grabbed his robe off the back of the door and sashayed out with a cheeky grin.

Much, much later - hours later - he had turned on his side and pulled me close, kissing me goodnight.  Within minutes, his breathing had deepened and he was out but I wasn’t so lucky.  It had been a wonderful day and usually, especially after marathon sex, I had no trouble falling asleep in his arms but tonight, I couldn’t quiet my mind, weddings and dresses and music and food dancing in my head like proverbial sugar plums.  I lay there in the dark and attempted to will myself to sleep, staying still so I wouldn’t disturb him.  I breathed evenly, hoping to drop off, trying to keep my mind blank, but apparently it had exactly the opposite effect which I discovered when eventually, I fell into an odd, half conscious dream-state. 

I was in a hotel room with Charlie and he was trying to get the back of my dress closed but it wouldn’t go.  His friend Lisa was dancing around us, trying to style my hair with one hand and put my makeup on with the other.  Leah was there too, tossing the room like a manic burglar.  As Charlie reefed on my dress, Leah would occasionally shout in triumph and hold up a shoe or an earring and I realized she was hunting for the rest of my wedding ensemble which had somehow gone missing.  On some level, I was aware I was dreaming, that none of this was real but even knowing that, I couldn’t make it stop.  Charlie swore as I heard the sound of fabric tearing, Lisa dropped a tube of red lipstick that bounced down the front of my dress and as she jumped back, she yanked a chunk of my hair out with the curling iron and Leah announced that it was time to go but that she had only been able to find one of my shoes.  Time leapt forward and I was walking (limping with one shoe on) through an enormous, gaudily decorated ballroom, toward Ben and all of our parents.    

Up until then, the whole dream had been just ridiculous but now it became something else entirely.  I watched as the smile fell from Ben’s face and he started shaking his head in disgust.  I reached the end of the aisle and tried to smile at him but he began to shout, his voice booming through the ballroom, that my dress was a disaster, the day was ruined and I’d done it on purpose because I’d never really wanted to get married.

I woke with a jerk and carefully got out of bed, putting on Ben’s robe and going downstairs for a drink of water.  I stood barefoot in the kitchen, telling myself that this kind of dream was probably something that happened to all brides at some point.  Planning a wedding was stressful, even with someone as lovely as Linda to guide me and I’d been trying especially hard to make sure I didn’t let Ben see when my nerves got to me because the last thing I wanted was for him to think I was second guessing my decision.

Barely a day had passed since I’d sat on the Heath and told myself there was no reason for me to be worried about this wedding and at the time, I’d been sure that if I applied enough rationality, I could get past this feeling.  Now I wondered if it wasn’t that I was afraid Ben wouldn’t get the day he’d dreamed of but more that I was afraid of letting him down. 

The angry Ben in my dream had been nothing like the one I’d pictured in bed the other morning.  There was nothing sexy or exciting about his fury in the ballroom; he was appalled, absolutely livid and worst of all, disappointed in me. 

My common sense had completely failed me and for the first time, I started to seriously wonder if I could do this.

I went upstairs and stood beside our bed.  He was on his back, the duvet down around his hips and in the darkness, he looked like he was carved from pale stone.  I didn’t want to wake him but I had to touch him, to feel his skin under my fingers.  I rested my hand lightly on his chest and watched it slowly rise and fall, breathing in time with him.  His hand, large and warm, came up to cover mine.

“What’s wrong?”

“I had a bad dream.” I was aware I didn’t quite sound like myself.

“Oh sweetheart,” he said, sitting up and reaching for me, pulling me onto his lap.  He wrapped his arms around me and gently rubbed my back. 

“I’m going to turn the light on.”

I closed my eyes as the lamp flicked on and when I opened them again, he was blinking as his eyes adjusted.  For a moment he looked very young; a sweet, innocent boy who had no idea his fiancée was losing her marbles.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

I shook my head, “Not really.”

“Are you sure?  It might make you feel better.”

“I don’t think so.  Now that I’m awake I know it was nonsense.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Admitting to him I’d had a nightmare about our wedding, especially having repeatedly assured him that while I was nervous, I was also fine and happy and excited about it, was pretty nearly the last thing that I wanted to do.  But I was also self-aware enough to know that if I lied to him now, it would only make things worse.

I sighed miserably, “Promise me you won’t take it personally.  I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I promise.”  He answered so quickly and with such certainty, “Why would I take it personally?  You can’t help what you dream.”

“That’s easy to say now, when you don’t know what it was.”

He smiled, “You are the love of my life and there’s nothing you could say that would change how I feel about you.  Did you leave me in your sleep?”

I grabbed his hand, “Oh god, no!”

He shrugged, “Well, there you are then.  If I imagine the worst thing you could ever tell me, it’s that you didn’t love me anymore so no matter what you dreamt, it will be better news than that.”

“Ben…” I kissed him softly, his pulse thumping where my fingers rested on his throat, “I’m running out of ways to say how much I love you.”

“Tell me about your bad dream.  I want to help you.”

I laid it out, having trouble recalling the finer details that, even in the short time I’d been awake were already proving elusive.  The only part I remembered with absolute clarity was the end, when Ben screamed at me because I’d let him down.  I so badly wanted to close my eyes, afraid of seeing that same look of disappointment on his face but I kept them open because I needed him to know that in real life, when I was awake and sane, I trusted him.

“Kai,” he said when I’d finished, “I realize that this dream was distressing.  Your hand was like ice on my chest when I woke up but it was only a dream.”

“I know but…”

He stopped me, gathering me in his arms and kissing my forehead, “On Friday at Alice’s everyone brought it up at some point, Jem about your hen party, Charlie and Leah about dress shopping and today was nothing but wedding talk.  I’m not the least bit surprised that you fell asleep thinking about it and your subconscious took over from there.  You’re trying to work through your anxiety, trying to figure out what it is you’re so afraid of.  In order to do that, your brain has to go through the absolute worst case scenario where everything goes wrong, it’s all your fault and I blame you for ruining it all.  When you look at it like that, it all makes complete sense.”

I was incredibly relieved that he was being not only kind and understanding, but so rational about it.  I’d been sure he was going to be worried or worse, hurt, thinking I was trying to back out. ~~~~

“I guess it does, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, all of it except the part where I could ever be disappointed in you.”

I raised my head from his shoulder and he was grinning broadly, “That was just cuckoo.”

He burst out laughing at my facial expression and I threw myself at him, knocking him back onto the bed and kissing him.  He sank his hands into my hair and lifted me up so he could see my face and suddenly my eyes were wet.

“You had your crisis of confidence before you proposed to me.  I’m having mine now.  I adore you, everything about you but, I think maybe I’ve put you on a pedestal so high that now I’m feeling like I don’t measure up.  And it’s nothing you’ve done, all you ever do is tell me how much you love me and how wonderful you think I am.  I’ve done this to myself.”

“Kai, please love, I’m trying to understand what you’re so afraid of.”

I sat back up and he followed, resting his hands on my knees and waiting while I tried to find the words to explain.

“I told you I wasn’t afraid of being married, but now I’m not so sure that was true, exactly.  This getting married thing somehow seems very…final.  Like it’s not just the beginning of something but the end of something else and I don’t know exactly why but it’s freaking me out and making me question some things.”

“Me?” he asked, concern creasing his forehead.

“Absolutely not.  I’m not doubting you, I’m doubting myself.  I’ve been thinking, a lot, about a conversation I had with my Mum, right after you and I had met.  She asked why I couldn’t just allow myself to be happy and I still don’t know the answer to that.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me that I don’t think I deserve this.  Deserve you.”

He started to answer me but I interrupted him, “Wait, please?  I need to get this out.  Do you remember, when you were explaining why you’d wanted us to stop having sex and you asked me if what we had other than sex would always be enough?”

“Of course.”

“I said then that there were no guarantees but that we couldn’t let the fear of that stop us from moving forward and I promise you, I meant every word when I said it.  But for some reason, in spite of you telling me, and showing me all the time that you love me, right now when I think about our future, I’m so afraid that we’ve moved too fast and that in 6 months or a year, you’re going to find yourself looking at me and wondering what the fuck you were thinking and that you’ll be disappointed with your decision.”

The look on his face, the pain in his eyes was almost enough to make me wish I’d kept my mouth shut but as soon as he spoke, I understood what he was feeling wasn’t for himself, but for me.

“Jesus Christ Kai, how could I ever be disappointed in you?  You’re brilliant and funny and kind; you’re honest with me, sometimes painfully so, but at least I’ll never have to wonder if you’ve lied to me.  You’re loving and beautiful and supportive and you only ever give me your all, whether it’s running off to look after things for my Dad when he was ill or helping me run lines until you’re cross-eyed or whipping up masterpieces to keep me fed.  You could argue for England when you’re passionate about something and I love and admire you for it even when I disagree with you.  I adore that you are incapable of walking past a dog without stopping to say hello and that you cry every single time you watch ‘The Princess Bride’.  I don’t even mind that you’ve made me watch it three times in the five months we’ve been together.” He paused for a breath and I tried to kiss him but he ducked me and continued, “I could never be disappointed in you because you are everything I’ve ever wanted.  You’re everything I never even knew I wanted; you are quite simply, everything to me.  Do you understand?  If you were half the woman you are, you’d still be enough for me.”

Tears pooled in my eyes but there was one more thing I had to be sure of, “But what about the wedding?  Day one with Linda and I’m already having nightmares.”

“Listen, you idiot,” he said, “when you said yes to me, you meant it and that’s the only part that truly matters in the end.  We’ve picked the wedding planner we both liked and we’ll figure out what we both want but if for some reason we can’t come up with a compromise that you’re comfortable with, then we’ll get married alone in a registry office and every one else and their expectations can fuck off.”

“Compromise means we’re both comfortable.  What about your expectations?”

“They can fuck off too.  Will a big, fancy wedding guarantee that everything will be easy and perfect from that moment forward?  No.” He said, answering his own question, “Will it mean that we never have doubts or get scared or shout at each other?  Of course it won’t.  Will it somehow make us love each other more?  No, because that’s completely impossible.” His thumbs swept lightly over my cheekbones, “Big wedding, small wedding, no wedding, it simply doesn’t matter so long as you promise me something.”

I started to answer but he held a finger to my lips, his lips curling into a grin, “You were going to say ‘anything’, weren’t you?”

I nodded.

“Don’t answer until I tell you what I want you to promise, O.K?”

I nodded again and he grabbed me, rolling us over so he was on top.  He raised himself on his elbows and looking at his sweet, handsome face, I tried again to stretch up and kiss him but he pushed me back down.

“Stop it and pay attention, this is important.”

“So is kissing you.” I countered.

“We’ll get to that, but first,” he cleared his throat before continuing in a low, serious voice, “Kai, will you promise from this day forward to love me, for better or worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health and furthermore,” his eyes sparkled, the corners creasing as he smiled down at me, “to let me make love to you wherever and whenever and however I want to because you and I were made for each other and it would a crime against nature for us to ever be apart?”

Laughing and feeling like the truck that had been parked on my chest was finally gone, I answered him, “I love you.  I love you with my entire being, every second of every day but right now, I feel like my body is too small to hold what I feel for you and I’m going to burst from trying to contain it so don’t you dare tell me I can’t say I’d promise you anything because I do.”

His eyes were soft, radiating the love he had for me, “Say that again?”

“I promise Ben.  I do.”

“Then I pronounce us whatever the hell we are no matter what happens with the wedding, for so long as we both shall live.” He said, “And now I’m going to kiss my bride.”

“Yes please.”

Tenderly, he pressed his mouth to mine, his kiss an affirmation of all the words that had come before it.  He hummed quietly against my lips which immediately, always, took me back to the day we met and I closed my eyes, holding on to him for dear life.  His warm lips moved to my throat and I exhaled.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Think you’ll be able to go back to sleep now?”

“If you hold me I will.”

He reached over to turn the light off and with his lips to my ear, whispered, “I’ll hold you and I’ll never let you go.”

I slept like a baby.

 


	32. A-Dressing the Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, the title's kind of a dead giveaway ;)
> 
> It's been a long hiatus between the last chapter and this one...what can I say? Work, an extended holiday riding trains up and down the length of the UK and just possibly a generous dollop of that fiend, writer's block. For any of you who've stuck around, I hope you'll enjoy it.
> 
> I have to say a HUGE thank you to my beta reader Kat. She's been an invaluable sounding board and editor for so much of this but her enthusiasm and encouragement this time in particular, were exactly what I needed to get this chapter finished. I don't think she realizes it, but it might not have happened without her and I'm grateful.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 32, A-dressing the Problem

 

“Kai,” cajoled the insistent voice in my ear for the second time, “wake up.”

“Be-en, not again.” I complained as I rolled onto my side, pulling the duvet over my head to block out the light filtering dimly through the curtains.

“Yes love, again.  Wake up.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.”

He tried to uncover me.

“Cut it out.” I grabbed onto the blankets, “It isn’t any funnier the second time.”

“I promise you, I’m not being funny.”

His hand slipped under the sheet to curve around my breast.  As he cuddled up to me, kissing the curve of my neck, his naked chest pressed against my back and that stirred me somewhat, but after the nonsense he’d pulled yesterday, I was hesitant to take the bait.

“At least you’re not wearing a suit this time.” I said, my voice muffled by the bedding.

He chuckled as he pulled the duvet from my face, “I’m not messing about this time.”

“It’s Sunday,” I grumbled, rolling back to face him, “what possible reason could you have for waking me up so early?”

“I have a rather tremendous hard on,” he explained gleefully, “and I wondered if there might be a possibility you’d like to suck me off.  Or something.”

It was the combination of ‘or something’ and his pricelessly hopeful facial expression that got me, sending me into a fit of laughter that blew away the remnants of sleep.  He tipped onto his back as I sat up, pushing the hair out of my face with my hands and I turned to see him, lying expectantly with his arms folded behind his head.  He waggled his hips, drawing my attention lower.  Tremendous indeed.

“How is that even possible, after last night?” I asked.

I was genuinely perplexed.  I’d given him a serious work-out the night before and even with his powers of recovery, this was unexpected.  Not unwelcome, just unexpected.

“No idea,” he grinned broadly, “but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  Come here.”

He reached for me but I rolled away from him and off the side of the bed, narrowly missing a plate bearing the remnants of last night’s scrambled eggs.

“This gift horse thought she might brush her teeth before we get started, if it’s all the same to you.”

He shrugged, “Don’t really see the point myself, but do what you have to.”

He hummed a cheerful tune, quite pleased with himself as I stumbled to the bathroom, making a quick job with my toothbrush and splashing water on my face.  When I got back, he lifted the sheet invitingly so I could get in, stretching out beside him with my hand on his chest.  He took that hand, transferring it decisively to his crotch and I fixed him with a look.

“Could I have a kiss first or did you just want to go ahead and stick it in?”

“Oh I suppose I may as well kiss you,” he grumbled, but his eyes twinkled, “now you’ve gone to all the trouble of cleaning your teeth.”

It’s not easy to kiss while you’re laughing but it can be managed if you’re sufficiently motivated, and we were.  Turning to face me, his hand moving to my back, bringing me tight to his body, his hardness pressing into my abdomen.  He reached under the sheet, his hand warm as he stroked my side, reaching around to squeeze my ass and eventually, finally, his long fingers drifted across my belly and pressed between my legs.  I sighed into his open mouth as he concentrated all his attention on me, fingers moving on my tingling flesh and then he was pressing the tip of his cock between my thighs.  I lifted my leg and he pushed forward, his hand moving to close my legs so he was snug against me.  Kissing deeply, we didn’t hurry, hands roaming each other’s bodies, lingering in the sensitive places that we knew so well.  His lips swept across my cheek and down to my neck where he nipped lightly at my throat as we twisted our hips together, his thick shaft slipping forward and back over my clit, pressure and heat building until I was as ready as he was.  I ran my hand through his hair, bringing his mouth back to mine, his skin soft under my lips and we kissed until he groaned.

I opened my eyes, saw the flush of arousal on his gorgeous face and I caressed his chest with my fingers, “Or something?” I suggested.

“Or something, most definitely.” He agreed with a smile.

I nudged him onto his back, following and lying on top of him; spreading my legs and gripping him with my knees.  His fingers tickled down my spine, hands moving lower until he was cupping my bum, raising me up and I felt him, blunt and hard, pressing into my wetness.  The sweet tension, that brief moment of resistance before the head of his cock breached me and the wonderful ache as he filled me never failed to make my heart race.  I shuddered, inhaling sharply and bit my lip, my body tender from the night before.  Ben reached up, his palm to my cheek.

I bent to kiss him, to reassure him, “Gently my love but please, don’t stop.”

His hips rose slowly and pressing kisses all over his neck and chest, I moved back to meet him, moaning as he stretched me open, sinking into me. 

“You...” He trailed off and neither of us moved.

“I what?” I prompted quietly.

He reached for me, holding me close and slid deeper, his breath catching in a series of soft grunts.  As he stared into my eyes, I raised my hand and swept the hair from his forehead, brushing his cheek on my way to his exquisite lips, tracing their shape with my fingertips.  It took a lot to render him speechless and it delighted me when I could do this to him.

“I what?” I asked again and tightened my muscles around his girth.

“You, this,” he said haltingly, “it’s…perfect.”

Smiling at his sweetness, I said, “Not me.  Us.”

He sighed and pulled back, pulled out, so he could enter me again, stroking smoothly, long and deep and I lowered my head, sweeping my tongue around his nipple.  He always said the way I moved when I rode him, the sway of my hips as I rose and fell and my facial expressions were for him, the ultimate aphrodisiac.  For me, it was watching him watch me, seeing the effect on his face that I found so fulfilling, so I began to push myself up but his grasp tightened, stopping me.

“No,” His voice was rough as he urged, “stay here, in my arms.” 

My heart skipped at the longing in his voice.  Was it any wonder I loved him so desperately?  With one sentence, one gesture, he showed me I was desired, precious to him; completely and utterly adored. 

I did exactly as he asked, sliding my arms under him, gripping his shoulder blades and pressing my body to his.  We held each other, rocking together slowly, so slowly and our breathing quickened with the pure, simple satisfaction of our bodies joined, as we were meant to be.   His hand plunged into my hair, strong fingers massaging my scalp, pulling me up, full lips sucking on mine, his tongue delving into my mouth and I felt the orgasm building deep in my belly.  He was getting close too, I could hear it in his voice, feel his cock pulsing as it glided in my slippery warmth until he began to move with more urgency.  Raising his knees, he pushed my legs wider and I cried his name, repeating it, my lips on his skin as his thrusting grew in strength, his sudden intensity spurring me on.

“Oh Ben, yes.”

His hands flexed, pulling at my hair.  I gave myself over completely to the physical joy of our bodies striving toward our mutual goal, each driven to satisfy the other.  Bringing my hand up, I could feel the muscles straining in his neck, could feel that he was gritting his teeth as he forced himself to wait until I was ready and that was enough to push me over the edge.

“Now,” I gasped, “I’m…”

My words trailed off in a moan nearly drowned out by his as he pulled me hard against him one final time and I felt his release deep inside me as I constricted around him.  We collapsed, sweaty, gasping for air.

When I could move again, I slid to the side and wriggled lower, laying with my head on his firmly muscled stomach, arm wrapped around his hips.  He stroked my hair, spreading it across his chest and I was completely relaxed, mind drifting and thinking of nothing other than how goddamned good he smelled, when he spoke.

“Yesterday, when we were meeting with Linda, do you remember me saying negotiation was your middle name?”

“Sure,” I said lazily, “why?  What do you want from me now?”

I both heard and felt his rumble of amusement, “I don’t want anything.   I’m trying to make a confession actually.”

I patted his thigh, “Go on then.”

“Umm...I don’t actually know your middle name.”

My eyes popped open. 

“I assume you have one?” He continued.

“Yes.”

“Well what is it?”

“Why?” ~~~~

He turned onto his side, rolling me off him and I moved up the bed until we mirrored each other, raised up on one elbow with our chins resting in our palms.  He frowned at me, clearly puzzled by my question.

“Why do I want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Aside from the fact that I’m marrying you and I think I should know my wife’s name?” He took my free hand, threading his fingers between mine, “I assumed we’d be putting it on the wedding invitations.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.  I usually only use it on official forms, like my passport.”

His eyebrows rose curiously, “Or a wedding licence?”

Oh shit, I hadn’t even thought of that.

“Why don’t you want to tell me?  Is it awful?”

“Well...” My voice trailed off.

“If I’d known you were going to balk at telling me, I’d have looked more closely at your visa papers but at the time I was just scanning for the word ‘approved’.”

I merely sighed in response.

Amused, he pushed for an answer, “Come on then.  Is it an old family name?”

I made a face, “In a manner of speaking.”

His eyes narrowed in thought, his thumb drawing circles on my wrist, “Hmm, O.K. your Dad’s Scottish and your Mum’s Scottish and German - wait, it’s not…” He paused for dramatic effect, “Brunhilda, is it?”

I burst out laughing, “No, it’s not.  I’m afraid it’s much, much worse.”

“Worse than Brunhilda?!” He gaped, “Bloody hell, what is it?”

“I’m not telling.”

He dropped my hand and his fingers jabbed at my ribs; I shrieked as he tickled me, “Spill it woman, I demand to know whom I’m marrying.”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, I give!”  I slapped his hands away and when he stopped with an evilly triumphant grin I huffed, “Alright, I’ll tell you but I’m warning you, you’re not going to want it on the invitations.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.  Is there anyone who knows better than I the trials of an unusual name?”

He had me there.

“I suppose not.”

He stared at me, trying to will me to answer.

“Christ.  O.K. here we go - my parents aren’t married,” He nodded quickly, encouraging me to go on, “so, when I was born they considered hyphenating their surnames for me but decided it was too much.  Instead, both Finn and I have our Dad’s last name, Macbeth, and our Mum’s surname is our middle name.”

“You and your brother have the same middle name?”

“Yes.”

“So not the most feminine of names then?”

“No.”

His eyes were sparkling with mischief, “You can’t imagine the German surnames running through my head right now.”

“Yes, I think I probably can, but that’s where you’ve gone astray.  It’s my mother’s mother who was German.  Her father was the Scot.”

He looked baffled, “Oh come on, how bad can it be then?”

I flopped onto my back with a sigh of resignation.

“It’s Watson.”

It took a moment for it to register but when it did his face went through the most amazing array of expressions before he said, “You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

Dropping his head to my chest, he muttered, “How did I let this relationship get so far without knowing your middle name?”

I stroked his hair, “In the beginning I couldn’t imagine it would ever matter and by the time it did, I just started hoping if I ignored it, it would go away.”

Lifting his head with a grin he said, “Oh yes, very mature and sensible.” 

“Let’s just pretend I don’t have one.”

“That’s not exactly a solution my love, marriage license, remember?  It’ll get out eventually.”

“I’m sorry Ben.  I should have said something before now.”

“What possible difference would that have made?  Do you think I wouldn’t have proposed if I’d known?”

“No.” I admitted.   

“Right.  I’d want you to be my wife no matter what you were called.  So, O.K. in this case, I’m going to take a little ribbing because you’re called fucking Watson but it’ll die down soon enough.”

“It’s just…I know that whole Sherlock and Watson thing has been uncomfortable for you in the past.”

“It’s been made uncomfortable by people pointing it out in front of an audience to try and get a reaction or embarrass me.  But the truth is, while I don’t really understand it, I’m not actually bothered.  It’s a character I play, he’s not me.  I say we go ahead and put it on the invitations; let people have a laugh.”

“As long as you don’t mind, it’s fine with me.  It’s not me that’ll be asked about it on The Graham Norton show.”

“He wouldn’t dare, not after I told him off for it the last time.”  Then his eyes brightened with good humour, “He is going to take the piss backstage though.”

After a moment, he looked thoughtful, musing, “Kai Watson Macbeth…I suppose I can live with it.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck as he leaned over me for a kiss.

“Cumberbatch.”  I said.

His eyebrows rose in expectation as he waited for me to continue. ~~~~

“Kai Watson Cumberbatch,” I clarified, “that’s the name you’ll be living with.”

A huge, goofy grin broke over his face, “Really?  You’re going to take my name?”

“You’ve taken my heart, the least you can give me in return is your ridiculous name.”

“I love you so fucking much.” He said.

“I’m pretty fucking lovable.” I said.

He took my face in his hands and planted loud, silly smooches on both my cheeks, my forehead and my chin before his lips brushed softly over mine and he drew a finger down my side, raising goose bumps.  I pulled back and kissed the tip of his nose.

“Get off me,” I smiled, “I have things to do.”

“What could you possibly have to do that’s more important than this?” He asked, his hand moving to my thigh.

“Somebody invited Alice and Jem to dinner so I have to shower, go shopping and make puff pastry.”

“Mmm,” he hummed appreciatively, still trying to pry my legs apart, “puff pastry.  Sounds sexy.”

I snorted with laughter and putting my hands on his chest, pushed him off, “What it is, is time consuming.  I need to get a move on.”

This was to be the last weekend we had to ourselves for a while.  Ben had to be in Bradford on Saturday for two days of re-shoots, followed by his busiest week of rehearsals yet.  After that came the technical run-throughs, with the play opening for previews the following Wednesday and then he’d be doing seven shows a week until the holidays.  Between his schedule and mine, planning the wedding and getting organized for my parent’s visit, not to mention Christmas, our lives were about to become insanely busy.  I’d been looking forward to having him to myself for one more day so when, as we waited for our taxi on Friday night, he told me he’d invited Jem and Alice over, I’d been a bit put out.  Seeing my face, he’d explained that when Alice had offered to deliver and hang the paintings she’d done, it had only seemed natural to invite them to supper and since it was Jem and Alice, he didn’t think I’d mind.  Any other time, he’d have been right and I wouldn’t have given it a second thought but just this once, I hadn’t been thrilled. 

“Why this Sunday?  It could have been any other day of the week.” I’d said, standing on the pavement outside Alice’s flat.

“Because I want your picture up on our wall as soon as possible, so I can look at it every day.”

I crossed my arms, “I thought the painting was a wedding present for me?”

“Yes, well, it is.” He’d reached out and run his finger down my neck, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it too, and I’m rather looking forward to having two of you to admire.”

He had a knack for doing and saying exactly the right thing to smooth my ruffled feathers.  And now, two days later Jem and I had decided he was bringing dessert and I was doing supper.

“What are you making?” Ben asked, following me into the loo.

“Beef Wellington.” I said, turning the taps in the shower.

He made a ‘yikes’ face, “When I invited them, I didn’t mean for you to spend the whole day in the kitchen.”

“I know,” I called out over the sound of the water, “but Alice was at Jem’s when he and I were talking about the food and when I said I wanted to make something special to thank her, that’s what she requested.  I figured while he and I are cooking, you can give her a hand to get the pictures hung.”

After I’d showered and dressed, I went downstairs to find Ben making me breakfast.  He’d already run out to get us a newspaper and while we ate, I read him an article that had piqued my interest.  It was a story about food banks and how they relied almost entirely on donations of tinned vegetables since there weren’t enough regular suppliers to provide fresh ones.  Some of the charities also tried to help struggling families by giving cooking lessons, teaching them how to maintain sound nutritional principles on a budget but their job was made harder by the lack of fresh ingredients. 

“Do you know how many clients I have that only grow lawns and flowers?” I asked, “They have these beautiful sunny properties and they’re used for nothing but vanity.”

Ben’s brows came together, “And you think you could convince them to grow and donate produce?”

“I don’t know.”  I thought for a moment, “But what if I offered them a discount on our work in exchange for donating a portion of the vegetables they grew?”

“That, and you explaining what you’re trying to do could be enough incentive for some, but why do most of your clients hire you to begin with?”

I knew what he was getting at.

“Because they either don’t have the time, the knowledge or the inclination to do their own yard work.”

“Right.  So do you think offering them a ten percent discount would be enough to turn them into urban farmers?”

“No,” I admitted, “probably not.”

I sipped my coffee, ideas running through my mind.

“What if my staff did the work for them?” I suggested.

He nodded, “Maybe.  But keep in mind, you’re still running a business Kai.  I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but if you give your clients a discount as well as sending your people running all over London for free, how long is that going to be sustainable?”

“I see your point.”  I flipped the newspaper over, scanning the article again.  “If the food banks in this article are teaching cooking, I wonder if they’d be interested in teaching people how to grow their own food too?  I mean, if they could find enough clients of theirs who were interested - I have vehicles and could supply transport, or maybe they already have buses – and then on a rotating schedule, one of my gardeners to supervise and instruct.  I think I could afford that.”

“Or, you could hire someone separate from your regular staff, just to work on this project.”

“Yeah, actually that would probably be better, from a scheduling point of view.”

He was smiling at me, “You do realize you’re talking about starting a charity?”

“Am I?” I considered it, “I guess I am.  Before I get ahead of myself, I should probably find out if anyone’s even interested.  I’ll look up the addresses of the food banks from the article at work tomorrow and send out some letters, test the waters.”

Reaching for my hand, he smiled, “I’m proud of you for even thinking of it.  It’s a wonderful idea.”

“It is, isn’t it?  And besides,” I smirked, “it’s not like I’ve got anything else going on at the moment to keep me busy.” 

We finished eating and Ben got up to clear the table.

“Don’t bother doing the washing up, just put them in the dishwasher.  By the end of the day I’ll probably have used every dish in the place.”

While he tidied the kitchen, I wrote my grocery list and he asked if I wanted him to go shopping with me.

“If you want to, but I’m going to make the puff pastry first so it can rest while I go to the shops.”

“Is there anything I can do right now then?”

“I don’t think so.  Why?”

“If you don’t need me, I thought maybe I’d go for a run.  If you don’t mind?”

I could tell he was feeling guilty because he hadn’t asked me before inviting Jem and Alice over and he knew how much I had to do but I let him off the hook.

“Go.  Listen to music and burn off some steam.  You can help when you get back.”

An hour or so later, I was doing the final few turns on the pastry when the door opened and Ben, breathing hard and removing his ear buds, came in.

“How was your run?”

“Great.” He opened the fridge for a bottle of water and I watched his throat working as he swallowed.  He drained half the bottle before exhaling mightily, “I needed that.  With all the time I’ve been spending in the gym lately, it was good to be outdoors.”

“I’m sure.  Between getting sick and everything else that’s been going on, it feels like I haven’t been running in ages.  Maybe I’ll get up early and go before work tomorrow.”

I turned back to the counter, applying the rolling pin to the dough and he came up behind me, looking over my shoulder.  I leaned into him as he pressed his lips to the nape of my neck.

“Almost done?” He asked.

“With this part, yes.  Actually, I’m glad you’re here; I forgot to get the cling film out of the drawer and my hands are greasy and covered in flour.”

He got the plastic wrap for me and I told him how big a piece I needed.  As he spread it on the counter next to me, I dusted it with flour and he asked what I still had left to do.

“Shops first, then I’ve got to get the duxelles made and into the fridge to cool.  There’s the salad to make and I need to pre-sear the tenderloin but I can leave the assembly until Jem’s here to help.” I placed the pastry on the cling film and wrapped it air tight, “Do you have any idea where my good salad bowl ended up?  It wasn’t where I thought I’d put it.”

“The cream coloured one with the wavy sides?”

“Yeah.”

He opened the refrigerator door for me and I set the puff pastry on the shelf then turned to wash my hands.

“I think it’s down here.” He said, dropping to his knees and peering into the cupboard behind me, “Yup, got it.”

He reached up, setting the bowl on the counter top with one hand and the other went around my waist, pulling me back from the sink.  Still on his knees, he pushed my t-shirt up and nuzzled my stomach, his tongue tickling my belly button.  I squirmed and he looked up at me, his pupils dilating as we made eye contact.

“It sounds to me as though you’ve got some free time on your hands.”

“The only thing on my hands is flour.  I need to set the table and – oh!” I inhaled as he stood, lifting me in his arms.

He kissed me hard, biting at my bottom lip and I put my arms around his neck, being careful not to get flour on the back of his shirt.  I broke away, checking the clock on the wall.

“They’ll be here at 5 and I still have so much to do; we can’t.”

“Yes we bloody can.”

I felt the heat coming off his skin, sinking into me.  Up close he smelled of fresh air and clean sweat and my resolution was wavering.  I glanced at the clock again and looking back at him I watched his expression change from intensity to amusement.

“And you say I’m easy.” He grinned.

I smeared my greasy, floury fingers through his hair, “You are easy.  And sometimes you’re awful.”

“Maybe I am, but you’re still giving me that look.”

“What look is that?”

“Your eyes have gone all soft and sparkly because you love me even if I am awful sometimes.”

“Yes I do,” I agreed, kissing him lightly, “now put me down and go have your shower, you big tease.”

Laughing, he set me on my feet and as he went upstairs I called after him, “Open a window and change the sheets while you’re up there.  Our bedroom smells like a bordello.”

“That’s the way I like it,” he called back, “a bergamot scented bordello.”

With a smile on my face, I went back to work and when he was ready, we left for the shops.  I would have preferred to walk but given how much we’d have to carry, we decided to drive, which was probably better in the end since it was faster.  Once we were home and unpacked, I started on the mushrooms and asked Ben to make the salad.

“I’m happy to, as long as you don’t watch me.”

I turned my head to look at him and he cringed as I continued chopping mushrooms at high speed, “I won’t watch as long as you promise to hold your knife properly.”

“Pinch the blade for balance,” he said, mimicking my voice as he picked up a head of lettuce in one hand and a knife in the other, “it’s safer and more efficient.  Slice, don’t saw.”

“Exactly.” I said, refusing to rise to his teasing, “Your Canadian accent is really coming along and that’s the wrong kind of knife for lettuce.”

“Shit.”

I snickered as I put the pan on the flame and threw a dollop of butter in to sauté the mushrooms.  We had cooked together so many times now that we had developed an easy companionship in the kitchen.  I tried not to correct him, letting him crack on with things in his own particular style unless there was a reason I needed something done in a certain way and even then, in spite of his pretending otherwise, he was an interested student.  He asked questions, needing to know the why as well as the how and really wanting to learn and get better.  His knife handling skills however, were still enough to make my eyes water, though at this point I was starting to think he was doing it on purpose.  I tossed some chopped parsley into the pan, gave it a stir and took it off the heat.  He’d made progress on the salad and I leaned back on the counter, observing without saying a word.  He was using entirely too large a knife and I flinched as a radish skittered away from him and he nearly took the top of his finger off.

“I told you not to watch,” he said without looking up, “it only makes me nervous.”

I put my hands up and backed out of the room to find the table cloth.  When all the food prep and clean up was done, he went into the other room to finish reading the newspaper while I ironed the table cloth and set the table.  Surveying the results, I was pleased, until I glanced up at the window.

“For crying out loud, what are you doing now?” He groaned, swinging his feet off the coffee table as I walked past him and down the hall.

“The windows in the dining room are filthy; I thought I’d give them a quick clean.”

“Kai,” He called, his voice firm as he came after me, “stop.  It’s Jem and Alice, they don’t care if there are marks on the glass for Christ’s sake.”

“I know but now I’ve noticed them so I may as well…”

“No.” He took me by the hand, leading me back toward the sofa, “I didn’t mean for you to go to all kinds of trouble tonight.  It was meant to be a casual dinner with friends, not you whirling ‘round here for hours cooking and cleaning.”

“I’m just trying to make it nice for them.”

“I realize that, but you said yourself when I invited them that it was cutting into our time together.  We have a little while before they get here…”

I smiled, “Yes, to do what?”

“To stop this frantic hostess act.”

“It’s not an act.” I muttered, allowing myself to be drawn into his arms.

Lying between his legs, my head on his shoulder and his arms around me, I stopped fretting about the food and the table settings and the dirty window.  We were quiet, connected but both off in our own worlds, kissing occasionally, aimlessly, with no need to go further but just because it felt so good.  He shifted beneath me and I rolled onto my stomach, balancing my chin on my hands so I could see his face.

“What?”

“You know how we tell each other everything?”

His eyebrow rose, “Other than a certain middle name you mean?”

“Yes.  Everything other than that.”

“Yes.”

“So, if you ever slept with another woman, would you tell me?”

His face immediately darkened, “What the fuck?”

“I’m not suggesting you would.” I added quickly.

“I should fucking hope not.  Jesus Christ!” he spat, trying to sit up.

I needed him to stay put so I pushed him back down and carried on, “But if you did, would you tell me?”

He stared at me, trying to read my expression.  I carefully kept my face composed, blank.

“Why would you even ask me that?”

“Because I’ve been lying here thinking about wedding dresses and getting married and loyalty and honesty…”

He looked appalled, “No, I mean how.  How can you even ask me if I’d be disloyal?”

“I didn’t ask if you would.  What I asked was, if you were, would you own up and face the music or would you try and get away with it?  It’s not the same question at all.”

He didn’t answer, studying me for a clue as to what I was thinking.

“Are you messing with me?”

I held on as long as I could but despite my best efforts, my serious mask slipped and I grinned, “Yes.”

He took a huge breath and blew it out, “I sometimes despair of the way your mind works.”

I shrugged, flippant.

“No, I mean it.  For a moment there, I felt quite ill that you could even consider that I’d do that to you.”

“Again, I never said you would.  I guess what I actually wanted to know was, if you ever did something truly egregious, would you try and bluff your way through it or would you tell on yourself?  It speaks to how you view your own character.”

“Oh well that’s alright then.” He said sarcastically, shaking his head in annoyance. 

I pressed him, “I’d still like to know.”

“I can’t believe I’m even dignifying this ridiculous line of questioning with a response, but yes Kai, I suppose if I ever suffered a traumatic head injury resulting in total amnesia and had an encounter with another woman - which is the only plausible scenario in which I could even fathom doing such a thing - then magically regained my memory, realizing what I’d done, I’d fucking tell you.  Happy now?”

God I loved it when he used twice as many words as he needed.  I grinned.

He tried to get up again but I was immovable, holding myself to him and he couldn’t shift me short of using force.  Disgusted, he crossed his arms over his chest and refused to look at me.  I crawled up his body until I could reach his mouth and I noted that he let me, though he could easily have stopped me.

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

I meant it.

“Forgive me.”

I kissed him again and waited for an answer.  He glared at me from the corner of his eye and pointed to his mouth.  I pressed my lips to his and let him feel the tip of my tongue.  He dug his hands into my hair and pulled me back.

“And what about you, hmm?” His tone was chilly and I began to wonder if maybe I’d get what I’d been aiming for after all, “You with your beastly ideas and talk of honesty…would you tell me if you cheated on me?”

I held his eyes, judging his mood. 

I went for it. 

“Don’t be daft.  There is no scenario ridiculous enough that I could ever cheat on you.”

I only had a moment to enjoy his shocked face and nearly didn’t make it off the couch in time, throwing myself backward as he lunged for me and racing for the stairs but I was laughing so hard that he caught me before I could even get past the second step.  Tossing me over his shoulder, he landed a sharp slap on my ass and I was pretty sure it would have been the first of many if the front door bell hadn’t rung.

“That’ll be Jem and Alice.”  He said, panting slightly.

Still hanging upside down over his shoulder, I admired his firm butt and answered, “Their timing stinks.”

He put me down and took my face in his hands, looming over me, “We’ll pick this up later.”

“Promise?”

He kissed me until the bell went again and he broke away to buzz them in. 

Jem’s voice came over the intercom, asking for a hand to carry everything up so we put our shoes on and went down to help.  It wasn’t just food and wine they’d brought but all the individual paintings that had to be reassembled into the finished work.  Alice had carefully crated the larger pieces while the smaller ones were wrapped in brown paper and stacked in boxes.  Between the four of us, it took two trips to get everything inside, then Ben and Jeremy hauled the pictures up to the bedroom while I opened a bottle of wine.

“So it’s going in the bedroom?” Alice asked.

Pouring the wine, I nodded, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Why would I mind?”

I passed her a glass, “No one but us ever goes in there and I don’t want you to feel like it’s being hidden away, but,” I hesitated, not wanting to offend her, “it’s a bit…intimate, for the living room.”

“Well, that is what Ben wanted.  It’s not as though I was sitting around imagining the two of you that way.”

I started to laugh, her sarcasm and the impish twinkle in her eye only two of the reasons I was so fond of her.

Alice took a sip of wine, “Kai, it never occurred to me that you were hiding it but I understand completely and it’s your painting now, it should go wherever you want it.  And yes, it is intimate because that’s what Ben asked for.  Even before he’d taken the photos we’d discussed what he wanted, the mood he wanted me to express and he used words like romantic and sensual and tactile.  That’s why it almost looks three dimensional and though I used your hair to give it flow and movement, the actual focal point of the piece is his hand on the small of your back, to convey your closeness, your connection.”

I heard the sound of furniture being moved upstairs, Jem’s voice asking a question and Ben answering.  Alice and I smiled at each other.

“It’s amazing to me the thought process that goes into your work.  It’s so different from what I do, artistic and thought provoking.”

She made a face at me, “Seriously?  I paint pictures which half the time end up being bought because they match someone’s sofa.  You transform landscapes!”

I clinked my glass against hers, “Let’s form a mutual admiration society; next time someone buys a piece because it’s the right colour, remember what I said.  And the next time I’m feeling like I dig ditches and mow lawns for a living, I’ll call you for a pep talk.”

As he came around the corner into the kitchen, Ben said, “Everything’s unpacked and we moved the dresser to the other wall to make room.  If you and Jeremy want to get to going on the food, I’ll take Alice up and help her hang the pictures.”

Ben and Alice went upstairs while I walked Jem through what I’d already done and we lined up the ingredients on the counter.  I was patting the seared beef dry and layering it with a thick coating of whole grain mustard while Jem rolled out the pastry, cutting it to size.  We were catching up, chatting over the sound of hammering and the cordless drill from the bedroom when Alice came back into the kitchen and snagged the open bottle of wine off the counter. 

She gave Jem a quick kiss on the cheek and surveying the food said, “Looks good baby,” before running back upstairs.

I looked away, taking the plastic wrap off the bowl of mushrooms.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say a word.” I protested.

“You didn’t have to; I could hear what you were thinking.”

Chuckling, I looked at him, “She called you baby.”

He closed his eyes, “She’s just started doing it and I have no idea how to ask her not to without sounding a complete arsehole.”

“But... _baby_.” I said with an exaggerated shudder.

“I know.  And do you know what?  It never bothered me before you opened your great big mouth when I was seeing Sarah and told me it made you gag.”

“Well it does.  I mean, why would you call an adult - an adult you have sex with no less - ‘baby’?  It gives me the creeps.  Besides, it infantilizes them, implying they’re less than capable and can’t take care of themselves.”

“No,” he said patiently, “that’s just how you see it.  And since you told me that, it’s how I see it.  But to most people it’s simply a sweet little pet name.”

I took a swig of wine, “And I’m sure that’s the reason Alice started calling you that, because she loves you and believe me, I’m not criticizing her.”

“No, you’re judging her.”

I thought before I answered him.

“Yeah, a little bit.  But I’m judging you too.”

He started to laugh, “Go to hell.” He exhaled, staring up at the ceiling and finally said, “The thing is, the first time she said it, we were in bed and now she just keeps doing it.  How the hell am I supposed to ask her to stop now?”

“Oh god,” I laughed with him, “you’re screwed!”

“Yeah, I think I am.”  He drank some wine and looked at me sideways, “I don’t suppose you’d…”

I cut him off, “Not a chance.  There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you Jem, but this?  No way.”

“But why?” He whined.

“Jesus, you don’t understand women at all, do you?” I explained, “If Liam heard her call you baby and took the piss, that’d be one thing, but coming from me?  Alice may accept how close we are, but, one: I’m still female and two: you and I were friends first, so I can’t imagine she’d welcome my opinion on your pillow talk.” 

“Ohh,” His eyebrows shot up as he understood, “no, I suppose not.”

“No.” I grinned at him, “So, if you’re too much of a baby to do it yourself, get Liam to do it.”

We finished assembling the Wellingtons and popped them back in the fridge then went upstairs to check on Ben and Alice’s progress.  If anything, they’d moved faster than Jem and I had.  The entire centre section of the piece was already up and now they were filling it in with the smaller paintings.  They were working in low light and Alice had set up a projector that beamed a grid onto the wall opposite our bed.  Ben was working on one side, hanging the ones that were up high while Alice was kneeling on the other side doing the ones that were lower.  Little squares littered the floor between them and having only seen it whole, on the wall at Alice’s warehouse flat, I was amazed by how many there were.

“How on earth do you know what goes where?” I asked as Jem and I sat on the bed to watch.

Ben came over and showed me Alice’s template, a pencil sketch that mapped out where each painting went.  He flipped over the one in his hand, showing me the number on the back and pointed out the corresponding spot on the template.

“Once Alice put up the first part, the big one, the rest is almost like paint by numbers.  It’s genius.”

Alice glanced back at Ben with a brief smile, “It shouldn’t take too much longer either, the way you’re going.  You picked it up right away.”

Alice sounded distracted and Ben was back at work, positioning a square with a little spirit level to make sure it was straight.

“The beef only needs about half an hour in the oven and then ten minutes to rest,” Jem told her, “why don’t we leave you to it and you can give us a shout when you’re getting close?”

“Sure, that’ll be fine baby.”

I got out of there without making eye contact with Jem because I knew I’d lose it if I looked at him.  On our way down the stairs he told me his guitar was in the back of his car so I sent him to get it and we sat together, singing and drinking wine just like we used to when we lived together.  I felt a pang of guilt.

We talked on the phone all the time but hadn’t seen much of each other recently, what with work and our relationships and the general busyness of life.  It felt wonderful to reconnect with him this way and it made me realize how much I had taken our easy companionship for granted, back when it was just me and him in our little house.  It came to me, and not for the first time, that I had to make more of an effort to keep up with him, with all of my friends, and not only when it was convenient. ~~~~

“Hey.”

I blinked.  Jem was strumming his guitar and I realized he’d played the intro into my next verse a couple of times and I’d missed it.

“Sorry, I drifted for a minute.”

“You O.K?”

“Yeah, it just occurred to me how much I’ve missed this.”

He kept playing, quietly picking out the chords, “We have a lot going on.”

“Is that a good excuse for being a lousy friend?”

He shrugged, “I can only speak for myself but as excuses go, it’s alright.  And you’re not a lousy friend, you’re still there when I need you.”

“Thanks baby.”

He laughed and I knew we’d be fine.  Alice called out that they were almost done and we could start cooking. 

As we got up to go back to the kitchen he said, “Before I forget, I’ve heard back from Rita and the studio’s free for a couple of hours on Sunday morning.  I’ve already checked with Rick and Billy and they can both make it then.  If you can’t be there, we can still get the instrumental tracks down.”

“No, Sunday’s perfect!  Ben’s filming in Bradford and won’t be back until Monday so I won’t have to come up with a cover story.”

“I’ll let her know we’re on.  Ten o’clock and you can pick me up on the way.”

As I popped the baking sheet into the oven, I smiled.  Besides saying ‘yes’, coming up with a wedding present for Ben had been the easiest decision so far.  One night, when he’d been away and missing me, we were talking on the phone and he’d asked me to sing to him.  Lying in bed in the dark, listening to the sound of his breath, I’d sung him a love song, lulling him to sleep.  To this day, if he was feeling particularly anxious or worried about something, he’d ask to hear it again and now, we thought of it as our song. 

I’d always felt as though I actually sang better when I connected with the lyrics, the meaning of a song but this one was unique.  It seemed to put so much of how he made me feel into words and I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed it sounded different from anything else I’d ever done.  I’d performed it one night at Jem’s café and as the last note of my voice faded, before the applause, there was a hush as though every person in the room was holding their breath.  Jem said later that though it wasn’t technically difficult at all, it was the best thing he’d ever heard me sing.  I knew it was because of Ben, so I’d decided that for his wedding present, I’d make him a recording so he could take me with him, wherever he was.  When I told Jem what I wanted to do, he said he’d call his friend Rita who was a producer and see if we could get a few hours in her studio.  I’d really wanted it to be a surprise and was thrilled that the timing was in my favour.

Alice and Ben were clattering down the stairs, carrying empty boxes and packing materials to the front door.  I put my finger to my lips, reminding Jeremy not to say anything and asked Ben to pour the red wine he’d decanted earlier.  We sat down to eat and I watched Alice as she took her first bite, her eyes fluttering closed as she chewed happily.

“It’s so good I can’t even feel guilty for asking you to make it.”

“You have no reason to feel guilty, it was one afternoon.  How long did it take you to paint that?” I pointed up toward the bedroom.

“A couple of weeks, but,” she leaned forward and whispered, “I got paid to do it.”

I smiled, “Speaking of which, you never answered when I wanted to know what you were asking for the other two I saw that night, the oak tree and the dandelion.”

“Sorry, sold I’m afraid.  Both of them.”

“Oh no, really?” I caught myself, “I mean, that’s great for you, obviously.”

She laughed and said, “I’ve got a few others from the series that weren’t ready in time for the show but I’m still planning to finish them.  I’ll let you know when they’re done and you can pop ‘round and see if any of them strike your fancy.  But don’t feel obligated.”

“I won’t.  If they don’t match the sofa, you can forget it.”

We finished eating and as he stood to clear the table, Ben brought up the article from that morning’s paper about the food banks and the idea I’d had.  Alice, generous and soft hearted, was extremely enthusiastic and immediately offering to volunteer.  While Jem also liked the concept he, predictably, had concerns about how it could affect my business.  On that note he and Ben agreed and the two of them were off, both talking a mile a minute.   As they loaded the dishwasher, they were bouncing ideas off each other, speculating about how far I could go with the idea, whether I’d branch out into other cities and how soon I could make it happen.  They’d moved beyond suggesting ways each of them could help and were now fantasizing about the acclaim I’d receive (I swear I heard the Nobel Peace Prize mentioned) when Alice looked at me and slowly crossed her eyes.

“I know,” I agreed, “they’ve worked themselves into quite a lather.”

“Do you think they remember we’re still here?” Alice asked.

Ben had moved on to making the coffee to go with dessert and he and Jem were still going on, pointing out all the upsides to my plan, such as it was at this early stage. 

Like a pupil interrupting her teachers, I raised my hand, “Can I say something?”  

They stopped talking and looked at me.

“While I’m flattered by your faith in me, I don’t even know yet if it’s something anyone is interested in and even if they are, it’s going to take time to get it up and running.  I’m glad the two of you are so excited and that you both want to be involved but, I mean… Jem, you have the restaurant and Ben, after the New Year, you’re hardly going to be home.  Can we maybe slow down and start small so I’m not overwhelmed before I even begin?”

Jem looked completely unabashed but Ben came over to give me a hug, chuckling.

“Sorry, it’s just such a great idea.  I got carried away.”

I went up on my toes and pecked him on the nose, “And I appreciate your eagerness to help but honestly, when was the last time either of you grew a carrot?”

I left them laughing and went outside to have a cigarette but I couldn’t stop mulling over something Ben had said in the midst of their brainstorming.  The door slid open and he came out to join me, taking the smoke from my hand and having a drag.

“You have to admit,” he bumped his hip into me, “we had some pretty great ideas.”

I smiled, “Yes, you did.  Maybe just a few too many?”

He shrugged, “I suppose.  But I believe you can do anything you put your mind to, so it never occurred to me not to think big.”

“Flatterer.” I took the cigarette back and inhaled, blowing smoke into the air, “There is one thing I have to mention.”

“Which is?”

“I want to do this to help people.  The idea of anyone going hungry, especially in a country this wealthy is abhorrent to me.”

“Did I suggest otherwise?” He looked confused.

“No but,” I stubbed the cigarette out, “you know I’ve always been worried that I might do or say something that makes you look bad in the press but the flip side of the coin is that, if I do something good, something like this and it actually takes off, people are going to connect it to you and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t concern me that it could look like I was using you.”

He looked at me for a long time, the little crease between his brows deepening, “It’s not as though you’ve put my face on the Down to Earth sign over your office door in an effort to drum up business.  This is philanthropy we’re talking about so in this case, if using my name can help, then do it.  You wouldn’t be the first and I do it myself all the time.  How many charity events have I dragged you to since you’ve known me?”

“You’re so sweet,” I smiled.  “But you’re missing the point.  If you use your fame to raise money for a good cause, you’re a hero.  If I use your fame to raise money, I’m capitalizing on our relationship and no matter how worthy the cause, people are going to see ulterior motives – either that I’m trying to make you look good or I’m trying to make myself look good.  It doesn’t matter if neither of those is true, it’s about public perception.”

He reached out and put his hand on my arm, tentatively, like he thought I might shake it off, “So, does that mean you don’t want me involved?”

He looked so disappointed that I put my hand over his and squeezed.

“I absolutely do.  I’m going to need your enthusiasm and good ideas and especially your support.  However, while you and Jem were conjuring up ways to help, I heard you say that you could have Louise and her staff pitch in with PR and advertising.”

“Yeah?”

“No.”

“But it’s what they do.”

“Louise will always put your interests first, and that’s fine, that’s exactly what she should be doing.  But that’s also exactly why I don’t want her team involved.  If she sees an opportunity to attach your name to something that gives you a positive mention in the papers?  There’s no way she won’t do it, even if it doesn’t have quite as positive an effect on me.”

“Ah.  Right.”

I put my arms around him and said, “If I need you, I won’t hesitate to ask but for now at least, I have to do this on my own terms.”

He grinned the wide, lopsided grin I loved so much and wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my hair, “Does that mean I’m forgiven for possibly being the tiniest bit condescending?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I said, hugging him back, “I know it wasn’t intentional and anyway, how can I get mad at you when you’re being adorable?”

“Well, now, that was intentional.” He said and I laughed into his chest. “We should go back inside.  They’ll think we’ve deserted them.”

Jem and Alice were sitting at the table, their heads close as they talked.  He looked up as we came into the room and said, “Sorry about that.  Alice thinks I overdid it.”

She kicked his shin.

“I mean, I do.  I think I overdid it,” he corrected himself.

“Shut up.” I replied and ruffled his hair before taking a seat next to him.

Ben looked from me to Jem and back again.

“That’s it?” He squawked, “I just spent all that time explaining myself and he gets off with ‘sorry about that’?”

“He’s my best friend Ben.  You’re going to be my husband.  I hold you to a much higher standard.”

He looked scandalized, “How is that fair?”

Jem and I grinned at each other and together, quoted from _The Princess Bride_ , “Well who says life is fair?  Where is that written?”

Ben, disgusted, threw himself into his chair.

“Did someone say something about dessert?” I asked.

“I brought cheesecake,” Jem got up, “with homemade blackberry compote.”

From the corner of my eye I looked at Ben and felt the heat rising in my cheeks as I remembered the last time we’d had cheesecake.

“I’ll give you a hand.  I always think dessert tastes better when eaten off the right kind of plate, don’t you?” Ben said, winking at me.

After Jem and Alice had gone home, I was sitting on the bed trying to decide whether or not to go running before work when I suddenly remembered I had an doctor’s appointment in the morning.  I calculated the extra time I’d need to negotiate traffic and with a sigh, set my alarm for six.  Ben, wearing his robe open over boxer briefs, came around the bed and stood front of me.  I looked him up and down, admiring the long muscles in his legs when he reached out, gently pushing a loose curl behind my ear, a fingertip moving down to trace my jaw.

“May I ask you something?”

I braced myself.  He and Jem had had such fun tonight, conspiring over my food bank idea. But later, when they were watching clips online of a band Ben had heard and thought Jem would like, he had gone quiet as the two of us had enthusiastically begun making plans to go see them the next time they played in London.  So, it was no surprise I was anticipating having ‘the talk’ again, going through all the reasons that he didn’t need to be jealous.  I wasn’t even close.

“I’ve had relationships with women who acted coy, pretending they weren’t upset when they were, making me guess what was wrong and holding it against me when I couldn’t figure it out.  Frankly, I’ve always found that sort of behaviour childish and fucking exhausting.”

Momentarily confused, I asked, “And?”

“You told me in the beginning that you don’t play games and it’s one of the things I love most about you because I can relax, knowing you’ll always tell me how you’re feeling, good or bad, so I have to ask,” his voice dropped lower, “this afternoon, when you wanted to know whether I’d tell you if I were unfaithful, what exactly did you think you were doing?”

It seemed I'd misjudged how deeply my teasing had affected him and I needed to correct that, immediately.

“If I had the slightest doubt about your fidelity, I’d never ask you about it the way I did.  I wasn’t actually trying to get to a deeper truth if that’s what you’re wondering.” I traced the waist of his briefs with my fingertips, looking up at him from under my lashes, “I was trying to provoke a reaction.”

His tone sharpened, “And what is that if not playing a game?”

“Foreplay.”

I slid off the bed and knelt in front of him, my palms resting on his sharply defined hip bones, “I was trying get you just angry enough to benefit me.”

He stared down at me, understanding dawning.

“Dangerous,” he growled darkly.

If I hadn’t known him so well, the sharpness of his tone and the hard set of his jaw would have been quite unnerving.  Instead, what I felt was a rush, a lustful craving.  His hands clenched and my gaze lingered on the cords of sinew that rippled in his forearms, the raised veins tracing the skin.

Looking up into his steely eyes I said, “I certainly hope so, Benedict.”

After a completely debauched and extremely satisfying night, I had sneaked out the door for my appointment in the morning before Ben was awake.  I sat in my car, shivering and yawning while I waited for the fog to clear, from my brain as well as the windshield.

I went straight to work after my appointment where it took the best part of the morning for Myra to get me caught up on all I’d missed over the last little while.  We went out for lunch and I made her an offer.

“When I hired you, it was only supposed to be part time but with one thing and another, you’ve basically taken over running the office.  I couldn’t be happier with your work and the freedom it’s given me and I’d like to know if you’d consider making it a regular thing.  With appropriate compensation, obviously.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, “I feel like there’s still so much I don’t know.  Even when you were off sick, I ended up having to email you several times a day.”

“You know more than I did when Bev started getting me to cover office shifts for her and you’re good at it, I don’t worry about anything when I know you’re there.  The customers love you and I don’t care if you email me 20 times a day if it means I can get back to doing the hands-on work again.”

She took a sip from her teacup and looked at me thoughtfully, “How much appropriate compensation?”

I smiled, “Let’s say…a third again what you’re getting now and a bonus for the last couple of weeks when I pretty much abandoned you?”

“I’ll have to talk it over with Philip and the kids, but barring any argument from them, I’m in.”

“Hurray!” I clapped my hands.  “By the way, I’m not coming in tomorrow, so you’ll have to email me and let me know.”

She laughed, “Are you doing anything exciting?”

“Wedding dress shopping.”

Her eyes lit up and she told me she still remembered every detail of her experience, how her bridesmaids had argued over the choices and how she knew she’d found the right one when her mother had cried.

“I’m not so sure my day will go quite the same way.  The mother of the bride stand-in is an exceptionally bossy stylist called Charlie, I only have one bridesmaid because my maid of honour is a man and if anyone cries, it’ll probably be me.  Out of frustration.”

Myra sat back and looked me up and down.

“Permission to speak freely?”

“Go ahead.” I chuckled.

“You need to get out of your own head.  You’ll be with with people who care about you, playing dress up in the most beautiful gowns you’ve ever seen, in preparation for the most wonderful day of your life.  I won’t lie – it is frustrating - and you’ll be exhausted by the time you’re done but for Christ’s sake, you have to try and enjoy it.  You’re getting married so I assume you’re in love with this man…”

She let the sentence hang and I nodded, “Head over heels, heart pounding, stupid in love.”

“Every time you start to get discouraged or to lose your temper, just think about the way he’s going to look at you when he first sees you in the dress.” 

When I surfaced from that deep thought she said, “See?  Makes it all seem easier, doesn’t it?”

“That’s some pretty inspiring advice Myra.”

“It’s what my grandmother told me when I was curled up bawling in the corner of the changing room and refusing to come out.”

She laughed at the look on my face and we went back to work.  On Tuesday morning, Ben kissed me goodbye and wished me luck.  I showered, got dressed and packed a shoulder bag, following the instructions Charlie had issued.  I wore a nude coloured bra and underwear and packed a spare bra that had adjustable straps or could be worn without, as well as two pairs of shoes with different heel heights.  I pinned my hair up so it would be out of the way and went to wait for Charlie and Leah on the steps outside.  It was unseasonably warm and I closed my eyes, tilting my head back to the sun and repeating Myra’s advice like a mantra until they pulled up in front of the house and honked to get my attention.

I ran to the curb and Leah jumped out of the car to let me slide into the back seat.  As soon as I had my seatbelt on, Charlie turned around and passed me a huge stainless-steel travel mug.

“It’s not coffee,” he said, “drink up!”

I thumbed the catch on the lid and it popped from the pressure within.  I took a sip and grinned.  He’d brought me a mimosa. 

“I called in a favour,” Charlie said as he pulled into the street, “and managed to swing us the private room in back so you don’t have to worry about prying eyes.  I’ve booked it for the entire day because this boutique has at least one of every dress you could ever imagine.  So, all you have to do today is relax, drink bubbly and look pretty.”

“O.K.”

He glanced at me in the rear-view mirror, “I thought we could also see what they might have that would work for Leah as well.”

“Sure, two birds, one stone.  Sounds good.”

He looked at me again, frowning before he went on, “Leah said you suggested black but I may as well tell you now, no.  I’m putting my foot down.  I’ll not have your wedding looking like a bloody funeral.”

“Alright Charlie, whatever you say.”

They looked at each other and Leah turned around in her seat, “What the hell is going on?  Are you medicated?”

I took another sip from my cup, considering, and told them about my conversation with Myra the day before.

“I’m channeling her granny’s advice and I’m actually getting excited about this.”

“Remind me to send Myra flowers.” Charlie said.

Leah said, “No dummy, chocolates.”

He looked confused, “Why?”

He jumped when we shouted in tandem, “She works for a gardener!”

And so, I tried.  I really, really tried but it was so much harder than I’d even imagined.  On the one hand, picturing Ben’s face when he saw me wearing the dress for the first time was easy because deep down, I knew that whatever I chose, he’d think I was beautiful.  On the other hand, I quickly discovered that it made me even more determined to find ‘the perfect dress’ because this was once in a lifetime.  Ben was my once in a lifetime love and when it came to his happiness, I would never compromise.

The manager of the store was an old colleague of Charlie’s and she went out of her way to take care of us.  As soon as we arrived we were ushered down a corridor to the private salon where we were introduced to Georgina, the associate assigned to meet our every need.  She was impeccably put together, professional but friendly and she told us she’d been in the trade for 30 years.  She had the folder that Charlie had sent ahead with all of his notes and cuttings but before she opened it, she poured each of us a glass of champagne, told Charlie and Leah to have a seat in the big cushy armchairs that sat in a semi circle in front of the huge adjustable mirror and took me off on my own for a chat.  She was so matter of fact about it that Charlie didn’t even protest as she whisked me away to the changing room.

“I know Mr. Keating by reputation and you’re in very good hands with him but I wanted a few minutes to hear directly from you what you’re looking for so I don’t waste your time bringing you anything you aren’t interested in.  Don’t worry about being too specific or not specific enough, just tell me what you like.  Broad strokes to start with and we’ll narrow it down as we go along.”

“Alright, let me see…I’d rather stay away from blindingly white.  Nothing too poufy.  I tend toward more old fashioned than modern.  I have broad shoulders and big boobs so I think I look top heavy when I wear anything strapless.  Does that help?”

Georgina smiled, “Yes.  What about fabric, any thoughts?”

“I like lace. Actually, I prefer patterns of any kind to smooth and shiny like satin.  And I don’t mind a bit of sparkle but I definitely don’t want to look like a disco ball.”

She laughed and said, “That also helps narrow things down.  Now, I understand the wedding is quite soon?”

“Yes, January 5th.  Sorry about the short timeline.”

“Oh I’m not worried about that.  Our alterations department is world class and they’ll have your dress ready in time.  I was wondering more about seasonal – summer dresses vs winter dresses.”

“Is there really that big a difference?”

“There is for me, but it’s nothing you need to be concerned about.  Again, it just helps me when I’m pulling gowns for you to try.  Are you ready to get started?”

I was and we rejoined Leah and Charlie.  This time, Georgina opened the folder and as she leafed through the pages I pointed out why we’d chosen each one, what most appealed to me about each and Charlie chimed in occasionally, clarifying what I was trying to say in terms that would make more sense to someone in the industry.  When we were done, Georgina asked us to give her half an hour and left to go search the racks.  Another associate came in with a tray of cheese and fruit and topped up our glasses, then we were on our own.

“She seems nice.” Leah said.

“Yes,” agreed Charlie, “and she’s the most experienced person here, including Jocelyn who owns the shop now.  Georgina started as a seamstress and worked her way up.  No one knows more than she does.”

“Is that why you’re not leaping in and trying to take over?”

“When you have access to someone as good as her, you stay out of her way.”

I considered his answer and asked, “Exactly how big was this favour you pulled in?”

“Let’s just say that unless we’re featuring a particular designer, it’ll be years before I can use a dress in a shoot that doesn’t come from here.  But you’re not to worry about that,” he said when I started to protest, “you’re worth it.”

I took his hand, “Thank you Charlie.  For all of this.”

“What are friends for?”

“Ruthlessly exploiting for all their connections?”

“Precisely.”

I cut off a chunk of Camembert before Leah could plow through it all and asked if she’d given any more thought to what she’d like to wear.

“Something elegant, classy.” Charlie said before she could answer, “As long as it’s not black.”

Reflected in the mirror were racks and racks of dresses on the wall behind us, arranged by colour.  I wiped my hands on a linen napkin and got up.

“Come on then,” I said, “let’s take a look while we’re waiting for Georgina.”

I’d been thinking I’d let Leah find her own dress wherever she wanted to, knowing the horrors that had passed for bridesmaid’s dresses at some of the weddings I’d been to.  But it only took a single glance to know that this store carried none of that kind of satin, puff-sleeved nightmare.  It was, exactly as Charlie had said, elegant and classy.  Instead of limiting ourselves by choosing a colour, Leah suggested we start at one end and work our way across.  We’d only been at it for a couple of minutes when Leah suddenly jabbed me in the arm.

“What?” I asked.

She pointed up, indicating the music coming from the speakers and began singing along, “All by myself, don’t wanna be - all by myself…’

Charlie and I burst out laughing as Leah carried on in her best radio announcer voice, “And coming up next on ‘ _Songs That Make Bridesmaids Cry’,_ we’ve got ‘I Wanna Know What Love Is’, followed by ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’.”

We were giggling hysterically when Georgina returned, followed by a line of assistants, each bearing a dress in a bag.  When all the bags were hung up and the room empty, Georgina called to me and a rush of anxiety ran through my veins.

“Are you coming in?” I asked Charlie.

“If you need me to, I will.  If you get overwhelmed, all you have to do is say and I’ll take over.  But otherwise, I’d rather leave you in Georgina’s hands and see each dress on you first so I don’t make any snap judgements before you have a chance to even put them on.”

I looked at Leah, “And you asked if I was medicated?  Why’s he being so cooperative all of a sudden?”

“He’s maintaining a veneer of calm and patience so you don’t panic.” She explained.

“Make him stop.” I said over my shoulder on my way to the dressing room, “Stepford Charlie is freaking me out.”

I could hear their laughter as I shut the door behind me to begin the process of being dressed and undressed by a complete stranger.  As I stood shivering in the short satin robe the shop provided, Georgina would unzip each bag and show me the dress before taking it off the hanger.  There were very few I nixed on first sight and even then, she managed to talk me into trying a couple of them on before deciding whether or not to show my friends, waiting outside.  Charlie had told me and Georgina reiterated that it was sometimes hard to tell what a dress would look like on your body when it was hanging flat but it only took a couple of misses before she conceded that I had a pretty good eye for what worked for my shape.

Not all the dresses were available in my size but Georgina would tug and adjust, using plastic clips to pull the back together and she was so good at it that from the front you couldn’t even tell they hadn’t been made to fit.  I’d had a moment, when she’d gotten me into the first dress and stood back to ask what I thought, when I kind of got tunnel vision and my ears started ringing.  I was wearing a wedding dress and for a second, the panic started to rise but I closed my eyes, took a couple of deep breaths and thought about Ben.  The moment passed and I agreed to show Charlie and Leah. 

I went out to the mirror and stepped onto a low platform and this time, I really looked at myself.  The gold lace suited my colouring and it was a very pretty dress with a halter top and a fitted bodice flaring out into the skirt.  Charlie thought it was quite good for a first try but Leah agreed with me that the V-neck was just a little too low cut and we moved on to the next one and the next one and the next after that.  There weren’t many that all three of us agreed on but those rare finds were set aside to go through again after I’d tried each of Georgina’s selections.  After each fifth or sixth dress, she’d take what I’d told her (Too fluffy.  Too sparkly.  Too stiff.  Too much.) and go back to the racks, each time returning with something slightly different.  I’d get a break while she was gone but I was amazed by how much the whole thing took out of me.

“Why am I so tired?  It’s just getting dressed for god’s sake.”

“It’s not though, is it?” Leah said sensibly, “Normally you’d throw on a pair of jeans and a shirt, give yourself the once over in the mirror and be done with it.  At this point you’ve tried on, what?  Twenty-two, twenty-three dresses?  And each one requires absolute attention to detail.   I’m getting tired too and I’m just sitting here.”

Two more rounds went by; hours had passed and by this point the dresses I’d tried numbered well into the thirties.  I was trying my best not to get discouraged but this time, when Georgina left on another hunting expedition, instead of going out to sit in the viewing area, I stayed where I was, gloomily staring at the rejected gowns in their bags.  A few minutes later there was a light knock at the door.

“Come in.” I called.

The door opened just wide enough for Charlie’s arm to reach in, holding a full glass of wine.

“Take it.” He said.

I got up and took the glass from him, then I leaned against the door frame and peered out at him.

“I’m getting worried.”

“If you don’t find it today, we’ll come back tomorrow.  If you don’t find it tomorrow, we’ll go somewhere else the next day.  If I have to call in every favour, twist every arm, bribe every designer I know, we’ll find you your dress.  Patience my darling, and please don’t underestimate me.”

I smiled at his determination and drained the champagne in one go.  Burping gently, I passed the glass back to him.

“Tell Georgina to keep ‘em coming.”

“Atta girl.” He pushed the door open and she swept past him with another armful of garment bags.

And then, just when I’d been on the verge of calling it a day, I found my dress.  As soon as Georgina unpacked it, I felt my skin prickle.  I had goose bumps, over a dress!  The base colour was a deep creamy blush and it was overlaid with scrollwork flowers picked out in a paler shade that wrapped around my body in a subtle chevron shape, making my waist look smaller than it really was and together with the long sleeves, gave me the illusion of height.  The dress hugged my curves to just below my hips then fell in soft waves to the floor.  I turned to see the back, with its short train and long row of buttons suspended in translucent fabric from neck to waist.  The lace had been set along the edges of both the open back and the neckline so the flower petals overlapped my skin and as I looked at myself in the mirror, my vision blurred.

“Hey you guys?”  I called out to Charlie and Leah, “If I’m crying, it’s my dress, right?”

“Get out here!” Charlie barked back.

Georgina held the door for me and I picked up the too-long skirt, making my way to the platform.  I held my breath, waiting…

Charlie twirled his finger so I’d turn and show them every angle.  When I was facing them again, he slowly nodded.  Leah wasn’t looking at me at all anymore, seemingly finding the wall to her left fascinating and then she sniffed and Charlie lost his composure.  Georgina calmly passed around a box of tissue and waited for us to get ourselves under control.

“Would you like to see it with a veil?”

I hadn’t actually planned to wear a veil, but at this point, when a dress had made me cry, I’d lost all sense of reality and said yes.  I faced the mirror, bending my knees as she slid the fastener into my hair and as I stood, she shook the veil out, letting it fall gently around me.

“Oh god, look at me.” I wailed and Georgina’s professional veneer cracked as she started to laugh.

“You have to get the veil.” Charlie sobbed.

“I know.” I sobbed.

“What the hell is wrong with us?” Leah sobbed.

Georgina called for someone from alterations to come upstairs and take measurements.  Charlie tried to snap a picture of me but I wouldn’t let him, wiping my eyes and backing away into the changing room.

“But why?”

“Because you’ll show it to someone.”

“No I won’t.  O.K. I might show Andy but no one else.  I just thought you might want one picture so you don’t forget what it looks like before your next fitting.”

“Trust me Charlie, it’s seared into my memory.  Besides, if you send it to me, there’s a chance Ben could see it, so no.  No pictures.”

“Why would Ben see it if it’s on her mobile?” I heard Charlie ask Leah as I shut the door.

“Because they’re freaks and they use each other’s stuff all the time.” She said in exasperation.  “One time when he went out of town he had to take her phone because she was at work when he left and she had his.  I got home from a date and sent Kai a couple of texts but it was Ben I was talking with.” She laughed, “He only let on it was him when I started to get into the dirty details and he got flustered.”

The seamstress was pinning and measuring when Charlie opened the door a crack and said, “How on earth do you maintain an air of mystery if you know all each other’s secrets?”

“When have I ever maintained an air of mystery Charlie?  I’m an open book.  That’s why he loves me.”

“That makes no sense at all.” He grumbled, shutting the door and going back to his seat.

Besides a bit of cheese and fruit, I’d had nothing but champagne all day and was absolutely famished.  Leah was also more than a little tipsy and insisted on eating at a very specific restaurant that she swore had the best fried chicken and waffles EVER so Charlie agreed to chauffeur us.  We ate, drank and laughed our heads off and in the end, Charlie had to leave his car, the three of us walking arm in arm to the nearest taxi rank, singing Celine Dion at the top of our lungs. 

I stumbled through the door at home, almost managing to figure out how to work a hanger before giving up and dropping my coat on the floor of the closet.  Following the sound of the television, I found Ben fast asleep on the sofa and climbed on top of him.  I straddled his hips, poking between the buttons of his shirt with my finger, testing the hardness of his stomach muscles as he stretched and rubbed his eyes, smiling drowsily.

“You look happy.”

I nodded.

“You found a dress then?”

I nodded again.

He grinned, “Cat got your tongue?”

I laid my hands on his chest and leaned forward to stage whisper, “Mister, did you grow a carrot in your pants or are you just glad to see me?”

 

 


	33. Coming Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai's always said the most important thing in any relationship is honesty.  
> Oh well, nobody's perfect...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you once again to Kat, beta reader extraordinaire!  
> And I have no idea what's happened, but there's recently been a big uptick in subscribers and bookmarks, so my thanks to all of you as well!

What You Put into The World

Chapter 33 – Coming Clean

Having somehow ended up on his side of the bed, I reached out to shut the alarm off for a second time.  He started to get up but I turned over, sliding my leg on top of his.

“Just a little longer?” I asked.

“Just a little.” He agreed, stretching languorously.

“Nine minutes,” I promised, enjoying the movement of muscle under his pale skin, “just ‘til the alarm goes again.”

He chuckled and resumed our previous conversation, “I asked if you had any plans for the weekend, while I’m away?”

I rolled onto my stomach, resting my chin on him. “I thought I might be lazy.  Lounge around watching crap telly in one of your t-shirts, eating takeaways straight out of the containers with my fingers,” I grinned, knowing he couldn’t stand when I did that, “and not noticing when I drop the really greasy bits down my front.”

The corners of his mouth went up and I ran one of my fingers over his lips while he brought up the other thing I occasionally did that made him shudder in disgust.

“Drinking tea made in the microwave,” he made a gagging sound, “and squishing the bag with a spoon?”

“Yes,” I sighed, letting my head drop to his chest, “pure luxury in a judgement-free atmosphere.”

He stuck his hand into my hair, lifting my head so I was looking at him.  His smile was slightly deflated.

“I’m not that critical,” he said, then looked doubtful, “am I?”

“You think it’s bad manners when I don’t use a plate but no, I wouldn’t call you critical,” I assured him, “though there are things I used to do without thinking that I don’t anymore because I know you don’t like them.  Like eating kung pow without a fork, right out of the box.”

He grinned, “I don’t mind really.”

I wriggled up to his face and pressed my lips to his, my fingers circling his nipple and he exhaled a soft breath.

“That my love, was a lie.  You absolutely do mind.  The only time you aren’t bothered is if I feed you too and that’s only because you get distracted by having my fingers in your mouth.”

I slipped one of those fingers between his lips and he sighed again, biting down on it lightly.

“Possibly…”

“No possibly about it.”

I grinned to myself, nuzzling his throat but he’d gone quiet and I raised my head.  He still looked like he was pondering whether he’d made me change against my will.

“And anyway,” I added, “you’ve changed things for me too.  Things you used to do that drove me bonkers when we first moved in together.”

I dropped my head again, nibbling along his collar bone and letting my hand drift lower, determined to get another sigh out of him.

“Toothpaste.” He blurted triumphantly.

This time it was me that sighed, in exasperation at his misplaced focus but I played along.

“Exactly.  You always put the lid on now, and you put it back in the cup instead of leaving it lying on the counter.  And you don’t leave your bloody enormous shoes in the front hall for me to trip over anymore either.”

I decided subtlety was out of the question and that maybe a well-placed love bite was in order.  I slid down the bed, placed my mouth on that very sensitive spot just to the inside of his hip bone, and sucked.  He raised himself on his elbow, looking down at me.

“Well that was just self preservation after you threw one at me.”

“Oh for god’s sake, I did not throw it at you.  I happened to have thrown it just as you walked around the corner to see what I was shouting about.  Now, tell me Ben, are you being particularly dense on purpose or is there something specific I need to do to get your attention here?”

We grinned at each other and he stuck his hands under my arms, pulling me up until I could reach his mouth.  I kissed him, running my hand through his hair, soft curls tangling between my fingers.  He was rolling me onto my back, halfway on top of me when the alarm rang again and he smacked it into silence, making a face.

“See, now if you’d gone straight to this when it first rang instead of all that talking, we’d have had time.” 

“Uh huh.  God forbid I take an interest in what you’ve got going on this week.”

“Bit late for that, the week’s half over.  But to make a long story short: work, wedding dress, planning for the best day of my life with the most wonderful man I’ve ever known, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.  You know, same old, same old.”

“Ugh, dull, dull, dull.” He said.

“I know, it’s ever so tiresome.  If you really loved me you’d think of some way to spice things up a bit.”

His eyes narrowed as he plotted.

“If we get up right this minute and go straight into the shower, you could watch me shave.”

“That would be lovely.” I said, “Alternatively, you could just bang me in the shower and go to work looking all scruffy.”

He pretended to be thinking hard, “Having given both options the required consideration, I believe I’ll go with the second choice.”

We were both hopelessly late for work.  I don’t know why I bothered trying to come up with excuses for Myra because I was fairly sure she was psychic. 

“Terrible traffic.” I said, flopping into my chair.

She snorted, “Sure it was.”

I looked up from my desk and felt my face going pink as she grinned at me.

“You look entirely too rosy-cheeked and relaxed to have been stuck in traffic,” she explained, “and anyway, your hair’s still wet and you’re not wearing any make up.  You could have said you were at the gym; I might have believed that.”

I laughed, “Busted.  I’ll work through lunch to make up for it.”

“You know I work for you, not the other way ‘round?”

“Honestly Myra, I’ve been here so infrequently lately, I’m feeling guilty.”

I got up to make a cup of coffee as she answered, “Don’t.  I’m happy for the hours and the extra cash.  School fees, after school clubs, uniforms, mobiles, laptops, all times three…teenagers aren’t just time consuming, they’re hopelessly expensive.  My parents have moved in with us though and they’ve picked up a lot of the slack.”

“Jeez Myra, I thought you liked working for me, now I’m starting to think you’re only here for the money.”

“I wouldn’t put up with your lateness and absences if I didn’t like what I was doing.” She gave me a cheeky smile and went on, “Actually, one of the best things about this job is the autonomy and, knowing that you trust me to take care of business when you can’t be here is good for my ego.”

“I couldn’t live the way I do without you working here.  I’m lucky to have you.”  Thinking of my parents, and Ben’s, I asked, “All of you under one roof? What’s that like?”

She leaned back in her chair, “There’s a self-contained flat in the basement so they have their own space but most nights Mum cooks and we all eat together.  The kids adore them and my Dad seems to like driving them all over the place, taking them to swimming and piano lessons and rugby.  And they’re not as young as they once were so I like having them close, where I can keep an eye on them.  Of course, it’s only been a few weeks.  Ask me again in six months and we’ll see if I’m still singing the same tune.”

I couldn’t imagine living with my parents again, having my mother (as much as I loved her, I was well aware of her propensity for interference) in my business every day.  Though what Myra had said about keeping an eye on them definitely had merits.  I could see for myself how they were doing instead of relying on their bluff assurances over the phone and Finn’s emails where I could practically feel him rolling his eyes at me as he scoffed at my concerns, detailing our Dad’s numerous ongoing projects and how worked up Mum was about whatever was her latest cause.  It was only a little over a month until they arrived and I couldn’t wait to see them and for Ben to meet them.

The phone rang and as I listened to Myra’s end of the call with half an ear, I booted up my computer.  Opening my email, I groaned; I’d only checked it an hour ago, and now there were eight new ones from Linda, fairy godmother of wedding planners, and an equal number of replies from Ben since she sent every email to both of us.  

‘When did the man have time to read and respond to each of these?  At length.’ I wondered, clicking through them all to see what was so urgent. 

All day long while I was in the office and Ben at rehearsal, we exchanged a flurry of emails with Linda.  By some miracle – which I suspected may have been related to Ben’s last name - she’d been able to get the general manager at Brantley Manor to fit us in for a tour and a meeting at very short notice.  She had copies of our schedules and since she had a brief window of time this week before a crunch with the two weddings she had in December, she was pushing us to settle on a venue so we could at least get our invitations done and sent and she’d have a better idea of what she was up against. 

Myra had agreed to covering Friday for me and Ben was already off since his rehearsal schedule had been rearranged weeks earlier to accommodate his final two days of filming in Bradford.  In exchange, he was doing an interview about the play on one of the breakfast television shows.  I would go with him to the studio so we could leave right after, taking the train up to Oxfordshire and meeting Linda, who’d insisted on driving because she had too much to carry on the train, at the station nearest the hotel.  

In between emails, I got down to work and it was with great relief that I managed to clear my desk by the end of the day.  Tomorrow was a client day for me, out of the office and meeting with a couple of my old regulars and I was looking forward to it, especially now that I was caught up and wouldn’t be returning to piles of paperwork.  I dropped Myra at the tube station and drove home.

I was washing the breakfast dishes and singing along with Van Morrison when the front door opened.  Ben grinned and swooped in, taking me in his arms.  He steered me out of the kitchen as I dried my wet hands on his butt, and into the other room where there was more space, then he twirled me.  I did a couple of turns before he took both my hands and we danced to ‘Brown Eyed Girl’, bouncing around the sitting room and belting out the ‘sha la las’ together.  When the song ended, we flopped down on the couch, giggling and out of breath.

“That was fun; we should do that more often.”

“We should,” he agreed, “I love dancing.  In fact, why don’t we go out?”

“What now?”

“Obviously not right now.  It’s too early; anywhere good doesn’t really get going until after eleven.” I saw him calculating in his head.

“I thought we were meeting David and Elise for supper.”

“We could all go dancing, afterward.”

I tried again, “I have to work in the morning.”

“As do I,” he reasoned, trying to convince me, “and do you always have to be the voice of reason?”

I threw a cushion at him.

“I have so much to do before Friday.” I said apologetically.

“Yeah, I know you do and I really should be brushing up on my lines for the weekend.” He sighed, “Maybe one night next week?  Some time before opening night anyway.”

I climbed onto his lap for a cuddle and kissed him on the cheek, “It’s a date.”

“Speaking of dates,” he asked, his arms wrapped around my waist, “is there any reason you have to be back in London on Friday night?”

I thought for a moment, “I don’t think so.  Did you want to go see your Mum and Dad?”

He was looking very pleased with himself, “No, I’ve booked us a room at the Manor house.”

“I thought you had to leave for Bradford on Friday night.”

He shrugged, “I checked my call sheet and I don’t have to be there until nine so if my driver picks me up at the hotel by five on Saturday morning, we should be there in plenty of time.”

I laid my hand on top of his, “You sure?  Getting up at four and being on set all day..?”

“Yes,” he answered, twining his fingers with mine, “otherwise, we’ll spend all that time on the train there and back and get home just in time for me to leave again.  This way, we can have supper at the hotel to see if the food is up to snuff and make an early night of it.  Rehearsal for our wedding night,” he waggled his eyebrows, “if we decide that’s the place.”

I grinned, “That’s my mind made up then.”

“The only thing is, I made the mistake of telling Linda my plan and she was so keen she’s also decided to stay.  She thought it would be a good time to tie up a few loose ends.”

“That’s alright, it makes sense actually.”

He wrinkled his nose, “Over supper, she thought.”

I laughed, “So much for our romantic evening.”

“Oh, I don’t know.  Is there anything more romantic than planning our wedding?”

Good naturedly I asked, “Um…candlelight?  Champagne and oysters?” I waited a beat, “Privacy?”

“We’ll just have to stay focussed.  Get the business done quickly and then we can go back to our room for champagne and privacy.”

“If this morning was any indication, it’s not me who has trouble staying on task.  Do we need a code word?”

“What, so you can haul me back if I go off message?”

“When, not if.”

With a roll of his eyes he said, “Go on then, what’s the code word?”

“I don’t know.  How about I just say ‘focus’?”

“How about you just put a leash on me?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

He laughed and came in for a kiss, sweet but stubbly.

“You need to shave before we go out.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, we both do.” I said, taking him by the hand and getting to my feet, “Come on, I’ll do your face and you can do my legs.”

David and Elise met us at a little café in our neighbourhood, close enough to the house that we’d walked.  Elise was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever met and I always thought she looked stereotypically Scandinavian, with her ice blue eyes and nearly platinum hair.  Her kindness and warmth almost came as a surprise when compared to her cool outward appearance.  She and I had gotten to know each other quite well over the past few months.  She was a brilliant storyteller and wrote some of the longest, funniest emails I’d ever received.  We’d made a real connection while I was working on the garden at their new house and she and Leah had hit it off at our housewarming party too. 

We tried to meet for lunch or a drink whenever we could and she was usually the energetic driving force of any social gathering. She understood and even appreciated my straight talk and gave as good as she got.  Tonight though, something was off; she looked drawn, her inner glow dimmed. 

“Are you feeling O.K?” I asked, “You look tired.”

She smiled and picked up her glass, “Thanks a lot.  I hate your shirt.”

I laughed but I could tell she wasn’t really feeling herself and persisted.

“I don’t mean to be insulting, but you’re usually…livelier.”

Taking a small sip of wine, she leaned on the table, “I am tired.  I don’t know what’s going on but the past few weeks, all I want to do is sleep.  I’ve started taking naps in the afternoon when I put the kids down.  I haven’t done that since they were newborns.”

“It’s a bit early for winter hibernation.” I tried to joke. “Have you seen anyone? Had your vitamin B checked, that kind of thing?”

She nodded, “My G.P.  My hair’s been really dry, and I’m freezing all the time so she thinks maybe it’s low haemoglobin or my thyroid.  She ran some tests.  I’ll get the results in the next few days.”

“If there’s anything you need, you’ll let me know?  I have a fresh fall crop of terribly healthy, organically grown and tenderly treated spinach full of iron and love…” I offered.

Her eyes brightened as she laughed and she looked like her old self, “I appreciate the offer.  I’m sure it’s nothing, but it’s good to know you and your super food are there if I need you.”

“What’s this?”

David had overheard the end of mine and Elise’s conversation and when he frowned in concern, I realized that she hadn’t told him what she’d just told me.

Elise patted him on the hand, smiling first at him, then at Ben, “Nothing.  Just renewing the bonds of friendship over salad.  We don’t see each other often enough.”

Ben began filling her in on all that we had going on and I sat back in my chair, watching her face but I was pulled from my contemplations by Ben asking me to describe Linda to them and as I tried to illustrate her individual combination of grandmotherly concern, charm and drill sergeant bossiness, I was happy to see Elise’s laughter. 

Over dessert, I noticed her stifle a couple of yawns and I made our excuses, calling an early end to the evening.  As we walked home, Ben pressed me for an explanation.

“Did it seem rude?”

“No, it was fine but I was surprised, that’s all.” He dropped his arm from my shoulders to take my hand instead, so he could see me better, “It’s not like you to rush away from David and Elise.  Now if Victoria had been there…”

When I explained, he too wondered why she hadn’t told David.

We ran across the street to our driveway and he stopped on the steps, keys in his hand.

“You wouldn’t do that, would you?  Not tell me if you thought you were ill or something?”

I put my hand to his cheek and looked up at him.

“I don’t think so.” I said, glad the front porch light was faint and he couldn’t see my face.  I chose my words carefully, “If I thought there was something wrong with me, I’d tell you because I’d need you, need your love and support.”

He bent to kiss me, softly, and he whispered, “And you’d have it.”

“I know I would.  But I can also understand why Elise hasn’t said anything to David; she’s protecting him.  She doesn’t want to scare him if it isn’t serious.”

“I can understand that but I think he would want to be there for her and if she’s kept it from him, he’s going to be hurt and angry.  I would be.”

As he opened the front door and the brighter light of the entryway lit his face, I saw his expression, the hurt and anger he was imagining.  I cringed inwardly.  There was something I hadn’t told him and while I’d had my reasons for keeping it to myself, I also knew I was being selfish and, particularly based on this discussion, was going to have to come clean sooner rather than later.  I was pretty sure I knew what to expect and I was kicking myself for the short sightedness I’d displayed in making one snap decision.  I toed my shoes off and stepping back to shut the closet door, found myself in his arms.  As they closed around me I leaned back against him and felt his breath in my hair.

“Let’s go to bed,” he murmured in my ear, “I want to make love to you.”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

He turned me around and we kissed, slow and unhurried.  He pulled back and his eyes sparkled as he said, “Maybe something a little less one-sided than last night.”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t completely one-sided.  I happen to know you did come.”

He rolled his eyes, “I did eventually, you ravenous thing, you.”

“I think you mean ravishing, as in, I ravished you.”

“You most certainly did not!  In fact, you absolutely insisted on me being the one doing the ravishing.  You contributed very little to the proceedings.”

I thought back to the night before, chuckling.  I’d been somewhat sozzled and more than a bit randy when I got home from my day with Charlie and Leah.  I’d found Ben asleep on the couch and once I was sure he was awake and paying attention, I’d announced that I was going to take him upstairs and use him for my personal gratification.

“Use me?” He’d asked.

“Yup,” I’d said, unbuttoning his shirt, “use you.  As in, get you to do everything I want with the sole intention of getting off.”

He’d laughed, “And what about me?”

“I’m sure we can do something for you at some point, but me first.” I’d said, scooching back and reaching for his belt.

“Sounds awful.”

“It sounds pretty good to me,” I’d said, unzipping his jeans, “but don’t worry, I’ll make it easy for you.”

“How?”

“By telling you exactly what to do.” Standing and heading upstairs, I’d snapped my fingers, “Chop-chop, let’s go.”

And once he’d stopped laughing at me, he’d gotten right to work, following my instructions to the letter until I was too breathless to issue them any more. 

Now, he leaned down and nipped my earlobe, “Last night was good.  Tonight will be better.”

I looked up at him, his profile lit by the lamp we’d left burning in the sitting room.  He was smiling, his eyes deep blue-green in the near darkness and I felt a spasm of guilt.  I raised my hands and rested them on his chest.

“There’s something I haven’t told you and I have to.  Before we go to bed.”

Watching his face, I saw a small frown cross his features. 

“That sounds rather grim.”

“I’m sorry.  I should have told you right away but I was flipping out and I didn’t know what to do.”

His hands tightened on my back, “Kai, you’re scaring me.”

My hands clenched in his shirt.

“It’s nothing like you’re thinking.” I exhaled slowly, “I had my IUD taken out.”

“You…you what?”

He couldn’t have looked more shocked if I’d slapped his face and I was sure I’d made a huge mistake in not discussing it with him first.

My mouth dry as dust, I swallowed, “At my doctor’s appointment.  Two days ago.  I had it removed.”

My words sank in and his face transformed, confusion giving way to joy and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him.  Our lips came together, his kiss gentle and slightly tentative until I responded, holding his face in my hands and I heard his breath catch in his throat.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He didn’t seem upset, but he sounded strange and I tried to explain how it had happened.

“I’m not…I wasn’t…look, I didn’t plan it.” I took a deep breath and the words tumbled out, “We were in the middle of my exam and she said everything looked good and I just…told her to take it out and she asked if I was sure and I said yes and the next thing I knew, it was done and I walked out of the office shitting myself because I suddenly realized it wasn’t the sort of decision I should have made without discussing it with you first even if I didn’t think you’d be opposed to it but then, then the thing with Elise happened tonight and you said what you said about David being hurt and I still hadn’t said anything and…”

“Shh,” he stopped me with a kiss, “my love, it’s alright.”

“Is it?”

He smiled, “Yes, it is.  It’s your body, it’s your decision.”

I put my arms around his shoulders and tucked my face into his neck for comfort, “This was a decision about my body that affects us both though.  Even if I didn’t know I was going to do it ahead of time, I should have told you that day, as soon as you got home.”

“Yes, that is true I suppose.  I assume you had a good reason for not telling me?”

“I did,” I squeezed him a little tighter, “but I’m not sure you’re going to like it.” 

He reached up to pet my hair, “Tell me anyway.”

I leaned back so I could see him, try to read his face.

“The more I thought about it, the more worried I got that once I told you, it would change things.  Change how you are with me.”

His eyebrows drew together, “Change what, exactly?”

“Please don’t think this was a frivolous thing, because it’s not, not to me.  Our sex life is important.  It’s not just about the act itself, it’s about the way we are together, it’s about compatibility and love and especially, about trust.”

“I feel the same way Kai, you know that.”

I looked into his eyes, searching for the right words.

“I don’t want you to start treating me with kid gloves.  You’re already protective and I don’t mind, I know it’s because you love me.  But when we’re alone together, sexually I mean, I like that you can be unpredictable.  I like that you can look dangerous and that you’re not afraid to be rough with me and I don’t want that to stop.  As soon as I realized what I’d done, I got worried that once you knew, you’d get cautious and I don’t want that.”

He looked at me for a long time, the lines on his forehead deepening with thought.

“You didn’t tell me you were ready to get pregnant because you thought I’d come over all careful and be afraid to touch you?”

“Well, maybe not afraid to touch me, but yes, I definitely thought there might be a change in the way you treat me.  Or feel about me maybe?  Like I might seem different to you, ‘other’ or, something.  I don’t know,” I let out a growl, getting frustrated as I tried to explain it, “it made sense in my head.”

I was dumbfounded when he started to laugh, big barking laughter, until there were tears in his eyes.

“What?  What’s so funny?”

“Christ you’re an idiot.” He finally managed, “I thought you knew me but you’ve got this whole thing totally backward.  You thought you’d tell me you were ready to make babies and I’d go all soft with you because you’re suddenly a delicate little flower?”

I bit my lip, “Yes?”

“No.”

“No?”

He shook his head, “You couldn’t be more wrong.  See, here’s the thing – I’m a man.”

I started to smile, “Yeah, I’m well aware.”

“What seems to have escaped your notice is that, as a man, the idea of you – the woman I love more than anything - pregnant, is just about the best, most exciting and wonderful thing I can imagine.  And the idea of me, as a man, putting that baby inside you is quite possibly the most erotic thing I can imagine.  So, no Kai, I’m not about to start treating you like you’ll break if I touch you.  In fact, I would be willing to bet that it’s going to have rather the opposite effect; I’m going to be all over you like a wild animal.”

Relieved as well as amused at his turn of phrase, I giggled, “Are you?”

“Yes, I fucking am.”

He bent to put an arm behind my knees, scooping me up into his arms, “But not tonight.”  He kissed me then, gently, lingering, his mouth soft on mine, “Tonight, I’m going to make love to you the way I’d planned.  Not because I’m afraid you’ll break but because I love you and I want to take my time and let you feel that.  O.K?”

I put my arms around his neck, “Yes Ben, a thousand times, yes.”

True to his word, tonight was unhurried and mindful, the emotional as important as the physical.  We’d undressed each other, taking the time to show our appreciation.  Feathery kisses on the tender inside of my wrist, the undersides of my breasts and my hair tumbling across his torso as I ran my lips over his hard-muscled body until we were tangled together, mouths locked in a deep kiss, our skin hot, sweat-slick wherever we touched.  He eased me onto my back and slowly went down, licking, nipping, his strong hands stroking my flesh when I opened my legs to him.  He moved between them, his soft mouth making contact and I moaned at the first touch of his tongue.

“I love the way you taste.” He said, his voice a velvet rumble.

My stomach muscles fluttered, my hips rising to meet him and I slid my fingers into his hair, feeling his head moving under my hand as he buried his face in me, sucking at my clit.  I closed my eyes, losing myself in his tenderness, falling to pieces as he pressed his tongue to me, faster and faster until I cried out, clutching at him in desperation.  Kissing his way back up my body, he held me in his arms until I resurfaced, raising my legs to wrap around his waist and pushing myself at him, feeling his hardness pressing against me.

“Now Ben, please?  I need you.”

He smiled dreamily and bent for a kiss, our tongues sliding together as I reached for his cock, holding him in my hand, holding him to me and rubbing the smooth head in my wetness.  He pushed into me with a soft sigh; pleasure and relief, and I echoed the sound.  He sank his whole glorious length and when he was tight against my groin, I rolled my hips in circles, loving the fullness of him inside me. 

He reared back, his lips leaving a blazing trail down my throat to my breast and I’d have sworn he grew thicker inside me as his mouth closed on my nipple, sucking it to hardness.  He let go, his lips brushing back and forth over the raised bud and my back came off the bed as I tried to get closer to him.  He smiled and repeated the move, going from one side to the other, teasing; arousing himself by arousing me.  His hands caressed my skin until I couldn’t take another second and I dug my nails into his back, demanding more.  Placing his hands on either side of my head, he raised himself up, arms straight, thighs hard against mine as we found our rhythm.  Our bodies collided, surged together and apart and stroking his arms, feeling the muscles ripple under my fingers as he moved on me, in me, I watched him.  I watched his face, lips parted as he fought for breath, his chest, glowing with exertion and I reached for him, needing him closer so I could feel his weight on me.  He moaned and I licked his neck, biting his shoulder as his thrusts got harder, driving his cock deep inside me.  I came before he did, but I wouldn’t let him stop, grabbing his ass and pulling him into me again and again, crooning my pleasure until he gasped and began to shake, his breath rasping in my ear.

I held him, tickling his back as we recovered.  He was heavy, my hair was caught painfully under his elbow and I had to pee but I wasn’t ready for this to end.  As good as the sex was with him, I loved this part even more; when I knew he was sated and content, exhausted and it was me that had made him that way.  Best of all was knowing he was feeling exactly the same way.  I lay beneath him, thinking about what he’d said and while maybe my reasoning had been flawed, I was glad he’d made me explain myself.  Though, after all my declarations about honesty, I still felt guilty for not telling him right away. ~~~~

The next day I popped into the office to make sure everything was in order and then headed off to see my first client.  I’d done two jobs before noon and afterward, even with a long visit to catch up with Dr. Beebe after his yard was finished, it was still early enough to do some shopping I’d been putting off.

I got home to find Ben had already packed for himself and, having found the list I’d made, was in the process of laying out my things too, spreading my clothes on the bed for my perusal.

“I’m not sure about this skirt anymore.” I fingered the cloth, “I think it might look too flimsy with my boots.”

“Just bring another pair of shoes.” He said reasonably, sitting down on the bed.

“I’m trying to get everything in one bag and the more I look at it, the more I think the skirt’s too summery.” 

“If you think it’s too light for this time of year, bring that grey knit dress of yours instead.  It’s gorgeous on you.”

“You’re sweet,” I smiled at him, “and that’s a good idea because I can wear it with the same boots I’m wearing tomorrow.  And with this.” I said, holding up my shopping bag.

“What’s that?”

I reached into the bag and pulled out a dark blue pea coat, “I’ve been needing a new jacket for ages.  Something dressier than my leather one.”

“Put it on, let me see.”

He followed me into the closet as I slipped the coat on.  It hung to mid-thigh and had a double row of silver buttons down the front.  Doing them up, I admired the way it was tailored, cut in at the waist so it didn’t need a belt and I looked over my shoulder at Ben in the doorway.

“Very nice,” he nodded approvingly, “and it looks amazing with your hair.  It needs something though…”

He went to his side of the closet and pawed through a drawer, finding what he was looking for.

“Here,” he said, standing behind me and winding a grey scarf around my neck, looping the ends so the fringe fell over the front of the coat, “that’ll keep you cozy.”

I dropped my chin, tucking my nose into the soft, warm fabric, inhaling his heady scent from it, “Thank you Ben, it’s perfect.”

“You’re most welcome.” He turned and reached behind him, pulling a hanger from the rail and holding it in front of himself, “And we’ll hardly match at all because the one I got today is a different colour.” 

I burst out laughing, “Are you kidding me?”

It was the masculine version of the one I was wearing, black and shorter, the collar smaller but with the identical silver buttons.

“I’m afraid not,” he smiled sheepishly, “we’ve done it again.”

I returned his grin, “We’re going to get a reputation as one of ‘those’ couples, dressing alike.”

“I don’t care.  It makes you laugh and seeing you happy makes me happy.”

“If you really want to see me happy, how about packing my bag for me?”

He nodded and grabbed the hanger holding my grey dress, bowing as he backed out the door, “As you wish.”

In the morning, all I had to do was throw my bathroom things together and get dressed.  I wore a creamy beige sweater with my jeans tucked into my favourite maple syrup coloured boots, sneaking a look at Ben to see what he had on.  Fortunately, he’d gone with something a bit different for him, layering a burgundy sweater over a similarly coloured shirt with a light pattern.

“Is that sweater new too?”

“No, I’ve had this,” he gave me a pointed look, “ _jumper_ for ages but I’d forgotten about it and found it tucked in the back of a drawer.”

Smiling, I suggested, “If you have enough clothes that you’re forgetting them, maybe it’s time to stop buying new ones?  Or at least junk out the old stuff.”

“The thing is, I buy something and I like it so much I wear it constantly until I’m sick of it and move on to the next thing.  But you’re probably right, I should get rid of some of the older stuff.”

“You should.  Besides, thanks to Charlie, I’m running out of room on my side of the closet and I’m going to start trespassing on your side pretty soon.”

“Go ahead,” he said, putting his arms around me and squeezing, “it turns me on to see your dresses mashed up against my suits.”

I scoffed, “Everything turns you on.”

“Not everything.” He rumbled, his lips on my neck, “But your clothes do, when I think how they look on your body.  It turns me on that you want me as much as I want you.  And the way you smell.  And the way you say my name and how you feel in my arms and your laughter and that little moaning sound you make when I do this…”

He pushed the neck of my sweater aside with his chin, nipping the tender skin at my collar bone and I made the sound, my hands clenching in the fabric at his waist.  He chuckled and so did I.

“I didn’t know I did that.”

“Every time.”

“Tsk.  How predictable.” I rolled my eyes.

“No, it’s wonderful because it also turns me on that I know what you like.”

I looked into his eyes and whispered, “Me too.”

He kissed me and spoke against my lips, “Let’s play a game tonight.”

“A game?”

“Yes.  I’ll show you all the little things I know you like.”

I swallowed, “And then I’ll do the same for you?”

He smiled, his eyes holding mine, “Love of my life, I did say all.  Once I’m done with you, you’ll have nothing left to give.”

When I answered, my voice was all wobbly, “I think I’m going to like game night.”

We took a taxi to the television studio where we were met at the main entrance by Louise who was waiting with one of the junior members of the production team.  He signed us in and gave me a pass on a lanyard to hand around my neck.  Taking the elevator upstairs, we were shown to the green room, where I was told I could wait while Ben was in makeup and that I could help myself to breakfast.  Once he and Louise were gone, I poured a cup of coffee and sat down with a croissant to watch the program, the usual news, traffic reports and weather, interspersed with human interest and entertainment stories.  It was obvious Ben was the big draw this morning, his attendance being mentioned before every commercial break. 

It wasn’t long before Ben rejoined me to wait for his segment, Louise nowhere to be seen.  I looked at him as he flopped down on the sofa next to me, his face looking odd under heavy screen make up.

“Are you wearing mascara?”

“No, I’m not wearing bloody mascara.”

“Are you sure?” I leaned in, pretending to check.

“I think I’d know.” 

“It’s just, you’re looking awfully pretty.”

He turned to me, “Shut up.”

I shrugged, “I’m just saying…”

“Could you not?  I get nervous enough before these things, I don’t need you taking the piss right before I go on.”

I reached for his hands, surprised to find his fingers cold, “You are nervous.  Why?  It’s not like you haven’t done it a thousand times before.”

“Because it’s a lot of pressure, being on like that.  You want to sound intelligent but not superior, you want to be funny but not say something stupid.  I have a bunch of points I need to get in about the play and I don’t want to leave any of them out, or worse, forget anyone’s name when they ask about my cast mates.  It’s only a five minute bit but there are so many ways it can go wrong.”

I wasn’t sure if my presence was helping or actually contributing to his agitation but he needed reassurance.  I didn’t dare kiss him, what with the make up and all, but touching the tip of his nose with my fingertip couldn’t do that much harm, could it? 

“But you already know what they’re going to ask you, you got the questions ahead of time.”

“I got most of the questions ahead of time,” he corrected me, “they always hold a few back to keep it spontaneous.”

Raising his hand to my lips I said, “It’ll be over before you know it and I’m absolutely sure you’ll be great.  And I’ll be right here, cheering you on the whole time.”

There was a knock and the door opened, another production assistant coming to say hello and give Ben an update.  He knew her from previous appearances on the show and introduced her as Belinda.

“Thanks for letting me come along,” I said, “it’s interesting to see the show from the other side.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all.” She said from the doorway, “Did you want to watch from here when Ben’s on or come into the studio?”

I asked, “I could do that?”

“Yeah, of course, you can sit with Louise behind the cameras.  If you come along with me now, I’ll get you set up with a headset so you can hear everything and Ben, there are two more segments and you’ll be up after the second set of adverts, alright?”

I looked at Ben and he squeezed my hand.  I hesitated.

“What’s better for you?” I asked quietly, “If I’m in here watching or out there?

He looked relieved, “Out there.  I think it’ll be better if I can see you.”

“Break a leg; I’ll see you soon.”

He gave me a light peck on the mouth and I followed Belinda through the halls to the studio.  It was much larger than I’d expected.  There was no live audience for this program but there were rows of seating leading up into the darkness and with the brightness of the stage lighting, it was difficult to see how high the ceiling was, giving the impression of endlessness.  We waited at the door until the segment wrapped and the director called ‘clear’ then Belinda quickly settled me in next to Louise who was quietly chatting with the on-set segment producer.  She turned when she heard us and looked a bit surprised to see me there.

“They said I could come and watch,” I whispered, “and Ben wanted me to.”

She nodded and I kicked myself for sounding like I was apologizing.  She wasn’t more than 10 years older than I was but I constantly felt like I had to explain myself to her.  The more serious Ben and I had gotten, the less friendly she was to me and I sometimes wondered if she viewed me as a bad influence because I wouldn’t simply be quiet and toe the party line.  I looked up as Belinda passed me a head-set and I slipped it on, adjusting the ear piece and then I could hear the hosts, Reena and Ed, chatting on set.  Before long, the director came over the system and began counting them down to air. 

I watched the cameras rolling soundlessly across the floor, the weather reporter viewing himself on a monitor as he stood in front of a green screen, hands moving over an invisible map as he demonstrated a front moving in from the Irish Sea.  It was fascinating, to see it all from this side after having only having seen it on television.  It was so busy, all the action happening off camera, sets being switched around for a cooking segment while the on-air talent never skipped a beat, interviewing a twitcher from the North Country via satellite, about a rare bird that had been spotted in the area for the first time in fifty years.  I tried not to laugh, amused, and not for the first time, by what some Brits considered newsworthy. 

They’d gone to commercial again and Ben was up next.  I wiped my palms on my jeans, nervous for him after his confession and as I caught myself clenching my teeth, wished I’d thought to grab a piece of gum.  Suddenly, they were back on and doing Ben’s introduction.  I was watching him so intently, looking for signs of his anxiety that I completely missed the first part of the interview.  Despite what he’d said, to anyone else he would have looked relaxed and at ease, sitting back on the couch with one leg folded loosely over the other, effortlessly reeling off the names of his co-stars, gushing about how talented they all were, then telling a hilarious story about the director, Feargal, delivered complete with a wicked impression of him.  He was doing beautifully and I was so proud of him I couldn’t stop smiling, even as I noted his nerves coming out in one small way.  As he spoke, one hand wove through the air, punctuating his statements but the other was on his thigh, moving slowly back and forth and I might not have noticed except for two things: I’d seen him do the same thing before and knew what it meant, and the ring I’d given him kept glinting in the strong overhead lights, drawing my eye.  If anything, being able to see how well he was masking his butterflies only served to impress me further.  

“So Ben,” said Reena, “it’s been a while since we last had you on and in that time you were nominated for a Golden Globe and an Emmy, you’ve recently finished two films that will be out by next summer and, I understand there have been some big changes in your personal life as well.”

My stomach dropped and I shot a look at Louise, who’d risen to her feet, catching the attention of the hosts who glanced her way.  Instead of putting them off, it only served to draw their eyes in our direction, and for the first time, they noticed me sitting there.

“Have there been?” Ben asked, still smiling pleasantly.

“I think there have,” Reena said with a coy smile, “in fact, I’ve heard a rumour that you’ve gotten engaged, and I think,” she said, shading her eyes as she looked past the camera, “that the lady in question is here with you today.”

I quickly folded my right hand over my left and tried not to scowl at her, then I looked at Ben.  He’d sat forward, his elbows on his knees and he crooked his finger at Reena, beckoning her closer.  She leaned in, looking excited at the prospect of getting him to admit it publicly for the first time.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Ben said, glancing in my direction before going back to Reena with a great big smile on his face, “I’ve found a wonderful woman who makes me ridiculously happy and if I told you anything else at all, she’d probably never speak to me again.  There is also a remote possibility she’d kill me in my sleep.  I think you’d have to agree that, all things considered, it’s just not worth taking that chance.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth to stop myself laughing out loud as Ben sat back again, looking extremely pleased with himself.  Both hosts were laughing with him as they thanked him for coming and repeated the dates the play was running, then the lights dimmed as the show went to commercial.  Louise was already making her way to the interview area.

Ben was unclipping the microphone from his collar but I could still hear him, his voice icy as he spoke, “If that’s the way you’re planning to conduct interviews from now on Reena, you can consider this my final appearance on your program.”

“I’m sorry Ben, but you know I had to ask and given the number of stories out there, you had to have been expecting it.”

“If you’d let me know ahead of time you were going to bring up my private life, I could have discussed it with Kai beforehand and I might have even given you a more of an answer than the one you got.  All you’ve done by ambushing me is make me not trust you.”

Louise had stepped between them, and Ben tossed his mike aside and stalked off stage.  Louise stayed, talking in hushed tones with the hosts and the producer who had joined them and I found Belinda, standing by the exit.  I needed her to guide me back through labyrinth of hallways to find Ben.

He was in the green room, pacing the floor.  I went straight to him, giving him a hug.

“That was brilliant!”

He shook his head, “I don’t think it was.  Are you angry?”

“Of course I’m not angry and you’re wrong.  It was funny and smart-assed and charming.”

“I’ve just suggested, on national television, that you might be homicidal.”

“Yeah, but you looked good.  I’m willing to take the hit, for your sake.” I laughed.

“You’re a lunatic.”

“Yes, but I’m your lunatic.  Give me a kiss and let’s get out of here.”

He did, but then he hesitated, “I should wait for Louise…”

I tightened my grip on his waist and looked up at him, “How about, no?  Let’s make a break for it and you can call her from the train.”

He grinned and kissed me again.

“You’re on.  Grab your bag and let’s go.”

As we jogged down the hall to the elevator, I realized something.  Louise was right.  I was a bad influence.

We hailed a cab to take us to the train station and I wouldn’t let Ben check his phone until we’d boarded, found our seats and ordered a drink.  It was barely eleven o’clock but I poured a mini bottle of whisky into each of our coffees and clinked my cup against his.

“Cheers,” I said, opening my newspaper, “now call the dragon lady and get it over with.”

I listened to Ben’s side of the conversation and was pleased to hear that Louise, once she’d torn a strip off him for not waiting for her, was on his side.  The producer had apologized and had agreed that the next time Ben was asked to be on, they’d have final approval of all the interview questions prior to the show, no surprises.  When he hung up the phone, he expressed his relief.

“I’m glad that’s been settled.  There is another morning show on the other network, but the host is a complete arsehole and usually I like Reena, she’s good fun.”

“I almost wish we’d stuck around to hear what Louise said to them.”

“Apparently, it was mostly Reena herself doing the talking.  She felt terrible that I’d been so furious with her. Though Lou did say that maybe she should stop jumping in and let people see me lose my temper more often.  It might make her job easier next time we’re doing a press tour.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” I protested.

“Why not?”

“Because then you’d have me constantly interrupting your interviews and dragging you off for a quick shag.  You’d never get anything done.”

He put his arm around me and pressed his lips to my cheek before he pulled his film script out of his satchel.  He’d just found the page he needed when a pair of teenage girls appeared in the aisle, stopping at our seats.  They were nervous, bright spots of colour in their cheeks and I could feel their excitement coming off them in waves as one of the girls spoke quickly.

“Mr. Cumberbatch?  We both love your films and especially Sherlock and, would you sign our tickets?”

They offered their rail passes and Ben took them.

“Have you got a pen?”

They began to pat their pockets, looking at each other in distress as they realized they didn’t.

“I have one.” I said, digging it out of my purse and handing it to him.

He asked their names, careful to check the spelling and wrote each of them a little note, reading the destination on their tickets and asking them about their trip.  They were on their way home after a couple of days in London with their drama class, seeing shows and told him they were planning to come back in December when his play was running.

“Will you be doing the stage door?” One of the girls asked.

“Not every night, but some, yes.  Maybe I’ll see you both there.”

They giggled at the possibility of being remembered and Ben picked up his script again, subtly cuing an end to the encounter.  The girls fidgeted, not leaving.

“Um, do you think, could we maybe take a picture?  With you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m…”

“Please?”

Ben was next to the window while I was on the aisle, so I began to get up to make room for them.  They looked so hopeful and I understood, even if Ben didn’t necessarily get it, what a thrilling moment this was for them.  My generous feeling toward them was eroded somewhat when, as I rose to my feet, they pushed past me to wedge themselves both into my seat, squishing Ben into the corner and they held out their phones.

“Here, could you take these?”

Ben and I looked at each other and I took the phones, snapping off a couple of shots on each.  They did remember to thank him and they ran off down the aisle back to their seats, no doubt to post the pictures immediately.

“Was I seeing things or..?”

“No, they shoved me out of the way.” I grinned.

“And then asked you to take the pictures.”

“That’s right.  And I’ve just realized one of them stole my pen.”

“I’ll bet it was the same one who put her hand on my thigh.”

I cracked up, “Jesus, that was ballsy.”

“Not quite,” he said, “but very nearly.”

There were no more interruptions for the rest of the journey and we arrived to find Linda waiting for us in her car.  She drove a full-size Range Rover and the entire boot area and half the back seat were chock-a-block with stacked binders and boxes, some of which were overflowing with fabric samples, pictures of floral displays and various decorations.

“Good lord Linda, tell me this isn’t all for us.” I said, climbing into the front seat at Ben’s insistence.

“Oh no dear, not all of it.  My car has to function as my satellite office because otherwise, inevitably I get to an appointment and discover I’ve left behind the one thing I need most.  It’s simply easier to carry everything with me.  All set?”

“Almost.”

Ben’s muffled voice came from the backseat and I turned to see him, struggling to dig the end of the seatbelt out from under our bags and the various boxes piled next to him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit in the front?  There’s more leg room.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ve almost got it.”

“Pass me my bag, I can put it on the floor.”

He did and I heard his seatbelt click closed and not a moment too soon.  If he thought I drove like a bat out of hell, he’d never seen anything like Linda.  She tromped on the accelerator and my head flew back against my seat.  I’m reasonably certain we made the turn out of the train station on two wheels and I heard Ben mutter, ‘Jesus’.  She may have driven like she was filming a car chase but we did make excellent time getting to the hotel and, going up the driveway she did slow down when I asked her to, so I could see what it looked like in person.  It was so much more beautiful than the pictures on the website had shown and we were lucky, the sun finally making an appearance as we pulled in, parking between the fountain and the front doors.

I hopped out and looked up at the magnificent old building, wondering what it must have been like to live here when it was still a private home.  Ben got out and stood next to me, his hand on my back.

“Oh yes, I think this might do very nicely.” 

“You haven’t even been inside yet.”

“I have a good feeling Ben.”

We carried our bags in to the front desk and Linda told the clerk we had rooms booked and an appointment with Mr. Edgerton, the manager.  We were to meet the manager in the bar at two for our tour, so we had enough time to check in and freshen up.  We were given our keys and offered a hand to carry our things up, which Linda took but Ben and I passed on.  There was no elevator so Linda had taken a room on the first floor while Ben picked up our gear and we climbed the vast staircase to the third floor.  At the top, he turned right but I asked him to wait and went the other way, to see the lobby from above and found myself looking down on an enormous antique chandelier, sparkling in the sun that streamed in through the stained-glass windows behind me.

“You should see your hair in that light,” Ben said softly, “you’re glowing.”

I went to him and took his face in both my hands, “I love you.”

“I love you too.  The key is in my right-hand jacket pocket.”

I reached in and got it, dangling it in front of his nose.

He jerked his head in the direction of our room and with a grin said, “Lead on, MacBeth.”

We went all the way to the end of the corridor and I opened the door, stepping back to let him go first with the bags, following him in.  There was a short hallway that opened up to a sitting area with a sofa and a pair of armchairs grouped around a marble fireplace.  There were fresh flowers in a vase on the table in front of the window and the walls were painted the softest pale blue, nearly the same shade as the wintery sky outside.  I took off down the hall to see the bedroom, Ben close on my heels and he just about ran into me when I stopped dead in the doorway.

“Wow.”

“You can say that again,” came his voice from behind me.

“Wow.” 

In front of us were three large windows, looking out over fields dotted with fluffy white sheep and huge old trees of every description as far as we could see.  The bedroom was easily as large as the other room and the shared wall meant there was a matching fireplace in here too.  I was pleasantly surprised to see they hadn’t been converted to gas, a metal grate holding a pre-laid fire of real logs.  Against the opposite wall was a four-poster bed hung with tapestry curtains, drawn back so we could see the luxurious duvet and piles of pillows, all covered in the same shade of blue as the walls.  Ben dropped our stuff by the bed and took my hand, leading me to the windows where we stood with our arms around each other, taking in the view.

“It’s wonderful.”

“So far, I’m inclined to agree.  In fact, even if the rest of the rooms are shit, our friends and relations will just have to live with it.”

He was amused, “That’s not very generous of you.”

“Our wedding, remember?  Our day.  Though, let’s be honest, what are the chances that the rest of the rooms won’t live up to this?”

“Pretty slim.”

“Exactly.  I’m going to get cleaned up.  Need to make a good impression on the management.”

I washed my hands and tidied my hair while Ben hung our things in the closet.  While he was using the bathroom I went back to have another look at the other room and discovered to my delight, a bottle of champagne and an ice bucket with instructions to call room service to have ice delivered.  If I called before we went to dinner, it would be perfectly chilled by the time we got back.

We met Linda and the manager, Noel Edgerton, in the bar just as the grandfather clock in the corner chimed the hour.  We took a table near the back and let Linda do most of the talking to begin with.  She asked questions I wouldn’t have thought of and took copious notes, which I was happy about because it meant I didn’t have to but instead, could pay attention and eventually, ask questions of my own.  Having gotten the basics out of the way, the number of guests they could accommodate on the dates we’d chosen, the various menus they could offer and that they had contracts for flowers and wedding cakes or we could supply our own, we moved on to the tour. 

In the end, it was the ballroom that sealed the deal for me.  I’d seen the pictures on the website but they couldn’t do it justice.  Standing in the room myself, looking up at the chandeliers and picturing them lighting the room as Ben and I danced to our song beneath them, I began to get emotional.  Linda was at the far end of the room with Noel, the two of them looking out one of the sets of double doors and discussing having a tent on the lawn and how many heaters it would take to keep it sufficiently warm for January.  Ben and I were in the middle of the room, holding hands and I knew he was waiting, trying to be patient while I made up my mind.

“I want to tell you what I think, but it’s not just up to me.” I said, staring straight ahead.

“I sort of think it is.  It is, as you said, our day but I’m not the one who needed to be convinced to have a real wedding, you were.  If you decide you want to get married at home, we’ll get married at home.  Or in a registry office or at a restaurant or in a barn, it’s up to you.  I think the hotel is lovely but if you have any qualms at all, I want to know.”

He was trying hard to sound neutral, but I knew he was already seeing us in this room celebrating – as was I.

“I want to marry you, in this room.”

There was a moment of silence, then, “Yes!”

He punched the air and picked me up, spinning in a circle.  I dug my fingers into his curls and kissed him hard before resting my forehead on his.  I was trying not to cry but I was so happy it was impossible.

“My love, don’t please.  If you cry now, I will too.”

I hid my face in his collar and took a deep breath.  With impeccable timing, we were rescued by Linda.

“I take it you’ve decided then?” She called out.

I still didn’t trust my voice but I put my arm out and gave her the thumbs up, hearing her happy laughter from across the room.  After that, there was just the paperwork to fill out, Ben and I sitting at the desk in Noel’s office, putting our signatures on the forms and Ben slapping his credit card down to pay the deposit for all of it, the catering, the staff and to hold every room available for the wedding party, small though it was, as well as our families and closest friends.  There were other hotels within taxi distance which Noel assured us would be able to accommodate the rest of the guest list.  Ben took a moment to remind him that the staff would be expected to sign the non-disclosure agreements that his business manager, Robert, would be emailing and Noel agreed immediately.

Linda went back to her room to make some phone calls and Ben and I decided to take a walk before we met up with her again for supper.  We followed the directions given to us by the front desk clerk and crossed the lawn behind the hotel, following a path along a fence until we came to a gate allowing access to a field.  We’d been told this was a shortcut to the trail leading to a waterfall that was worth seeing.  Cresting a small hill, we looked down to where the trail led directly into a huge flock of sheep.

“I’m not so sure about this.” Ben said, coming to a stop.

“Ben, love, they’re sheep.  I guarantee they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”

He looked at me from the corner of his eye, “Do you know who James Herriot was?”

“Sure, the vet who wrote _All Creatures Great and Small_.”

“Trampled by sheep.” He jammed his hands into his pockets, “And he was a professional.”

“That happened once.  One time out of all the hundreds of encounters he must have had with sheep.”

“They broke his leg.”

“Not on purpose.”

“That’s why it’s called an accident.  Because it wasn’t planned.”

“Don’t be silly.  Look, I’ll go first and you stay behind me.  I will personally ensure your safety.”

He gave a loud, put upon sigh, but when I started down the hill, he followed.  The sheep noticed us before we were halfway down and the ones nearest us began to baa nervously and sidle away.  I looked over my shoulder at Ben as if to say ‘I told you so’ and picked up the pace, walking with purpose and sure enough, the closer we got to the main flock, the louder their noises and the more quickly they ran from us, leaving us an unobstructed path.

“It’s the definition of herd mentality,” I explained, “if one’s scared, they all are; they feed off each other’s fear.  Watch this.” I said.

“Don’t do anything stupid!”

“Ben, please.”  I rolled my eyes at him, then turned back to the sheep and threw my arms in the air, “Run away!” I called in my best Monty Python voice.

The sheep scattered like ping pong balls dropped from a great height and I laughed my ass off.

“I don’t know why they’re called sheep.” I said, “They’re such chickens.”

Ben was not amused, “Could you walk any slower?”

“I could…” I said, slowing down.

I felt his hands come down on my shoulders and he began to march me down the path at high speed.  He didn’t relax until we were through the gate on the other side and it was firmly shut behind us.  I turned and leaned on the top railing.

“Now, the only one we needed to worry about was that one.” I pointed to the next hill over where a solitary sheep stood.

“Because?”

“That’s a ram.  They’re complete bastards.”

“And you’re just noticing him now?”

“Of course not.  I looked for him first thing and kept my eye on him the whole time.”

“We are taking the long way ‘round when we go back.”

“O.K.” I patted him on the arm, “That’ll be your reward for being so courageous.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m about to tell you to fuck off.”

“I wouldn’t blame you in the least.  I totally deserve it.”

The rest of the way to the waterfall was so pretty that Ben’s mood lightened considerably.  It was either that, or my relentlessly cheerful whistling.  We crossed two small bridges along the way, clear water rushing and bubbling over the rocks below and, turning at a spot on the path marked by a sign, we came to the waterfall.

“It’s not very big, is it?” I said.

“You sound disappointed.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the walk and the woods are stunning but, this hardly qualifies as a waterfall.  It’s barely a metre high.”

“Is there water?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yes.”

“And is it dropping from high to low?”

“Yes.” I grinned.

“Then it’s a bloody waterfall and I braved a bloody sheep infested field to get here so you’d better bloody be impressed.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking.  It’s a wonderful waterfall.”

“That’s better.  Now if you’re finished admiring it, let’s get going.  I need a drink.”

The walk back took nearly twice as long and it took me half that time to convince him to hold my hand which I only accomplished with the promise of an epic blow job.  There was a hose pipe outside the maintenance shed at the rear of the property where we rinsed the mud from our shoes before going up to our room.  We showered and were only five minutes late meeting Linda at the dining room.

As the hostess walked us to our table, we saw it was a large booth with a high back.

Ben asked Linda, “Do you mind taking the seat on the left?”

She looked back at the room over her shoulder, saw the heads turning to follow our progress, “Not at all.  I suppose it affords you a little protection.”

“Yes,” he said, sliding in next to me, “though I think it unlikely that it’d be an issue in a place like this but it means I don’t have to work at not making eye contact.”

The hostess placed menus in front of us and told us our server would be with us shortly to take drink orders.

“How very strange it must be to have to think about such things." Linda said, "I can’t imagine.”

Ben looked a little embarrassed, “It becomes habit after a while.  It’s not even that it’s a problem all that often but there are times, like tonight, when I’d rather not have to worry about it, especially having anyone overhear our conversation since we’ve been able to keep everything under wraps so far.”

“And, it is nice to enjoy a meal without either being asked to be the photographer or having to move so you’re not in the way of someone’s selfie with the movie star.” I said brightly.

Ben scowled at me and his hand dropped from my back to deliver a wicked pinch to my bum.  Which I totally deserved.

 

 

 

 

 


	34. Risk and Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben walks the line between fantasy and reality, much to Kai's delight.
> 
> This chapter's a little bit short, but it's been ages since I last updated and work's going to be nuts this week, so here it is and hope you enjoy!

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 34 – Risk and Reward

 

Before going down to the hotel dining room to meet Linda, Ben had given me little sample of what the evening would hold.  At first, I thought it was just that he knew me - my wants, my desires - so well.  It was only later that I considered I might have overdone the taunting and needling on our walk and left him wanting a little, for lack of a better word, revenge. 

I was getting dressed and he was in the doorway of the bedroom, his long frame angled against the jamb as he watched me.  I’d just pulled my dress over my head and was adjusting it in front of the mirror when I noticed the way he was holding his phone.

“Did you just take a picture?”

“Nope.” A lewd grin lifted the corner of his mouth.

I took a guess at what that meant.

“Did you take more than one?”

His finger slid across the screen, “Yup.”

He came and put his arms around me, holding the phone where I could see it, and began scrolling though the images.  He showed me one shot after another, of me in my underwear, reaching up to fix a hair clip, bending over while I slipped my boots on and finally, shimmying into my dress.  I could feel the heat of his body through my clothing and I leaned on him.

“A little something to remember you by, while I’m away.” He said, pocketing the phone.

I smiled at him in the mirror, “You'll be gone two nights; you're hardly likely to forget what I look like.  And anyway, given your tendency to misplace your mobile, is that wise?”

“Wisdom is overrated.” He kissed the side of my neck, “I think I’ll take more when we get back from supper.”

He ran his hands down my legs and drew my skirt up, slipping one hand underneath, watching our reflections.  As he pushed his hand into my underwear I reached back, my fingers curving around the nape of his neck, his feeling for my clit. His other arm wrapped around me and I pushed my ass into him.  I felt his teeth on my shoulder and my knees went weak as he pressed his finger inside me, giving me a couple of rough strokes.  I gasped and he pulled his hand away, smiling wickedly.

“That,” he said, his pink tongue flicking out to lick his finger, “was just a taste.  Think about that while you’re trying to decide which invitations you like best.” He cupped my ass with both hands and his voice took on an intensity that raised goosebumps on my skin, “Think about how, when we get back to this room, you’re going to undress for me and I’m going to take pictures of you with your lovely mouth wrapped around my cock, until I’m ready throw you on that bed and fuck you.”

I held his gaze in the mirror, intrigued despite my misgivings about him having pictures of me, of that particular kind, on his phone.  I could always delete them after he’d fallen asleep.  His arms were around my waist, gripping tightly and holding me to him.

“I wonder how long you’ll be able to sit still,” his deep voice rumbled from his chest, “while we’re in the restaurant, and I’m doing what I’ll be doing to you.”

With that, he’d turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me with my mouth hanging open and realizing that we might have slightly differing ideas of what ‘game night’ meant.

“Ben,” I grabbed my purse off the chair and rushed down the hall, “wait!”

Ice cubes rattled on stainless steel as he pushed the bottle of champagne into the ice bucket.

“Problem?”

“When you said you wanted to show me all the little things you know I like…”

“Yes?”

“I thought you meant after supper.  I’m sort of getting the idea that now you’ve started, you’re not planning on stopping.”

“Why would I?”

I planted my hands on my hips, determined to make him see reason, “Because we have a ton of stuff to get through tonight with Linda and I need to pay attention.  And because we’ll be in public.  And…”

He tilted his head and gazed at me from the corner of his eye, “I don’t think you really want me to stop.”

“What would make you think that?” I challenged.

He moved across the room with startling speed, grabbing my hands and raising them above my head as he pinned me to the wall with his body.  I felt his lips at my temple, smoothing over my cheekbone and my breath caught as his teeth closed on my earlobe.

“That, for one thing.  That sound you’ve just made.  I told you, I know what you like,” he purred in my ear and my hands clenched in his, “and one of the things you like best is when you don’t know what I’m going to do or when I’m going to do it.”

Anticipation thrilled through me, with a current of unease, “You’re not playing fair.” I murmured.

He was smiling, I could hear it as he kissed my throat between each sentence, “When did I ever say I’d play fair, hmm?  I can’t imagine why you’d have thought I would.  Especially when you said you liked me unpredictable.”

I dropped my chin so my mouth could find his and I struggled to get my hands free.  He held me firm and I gave in, moaning as he squeezed my wrists with his thumbs, grinding his groin into me as our tongues met.  By the time he rested his forehead on mine, our lips barely touching, our breathing was noticeably faster.

I lost all sense when he was like this.  I knew I’d probably regret it, I knew I was playing with fire, but I couldn’t help myself.  

“It is exciting, not knowing what you’re going to do next.” I panted.  

His eyes glinted and his voice vibrated through me, “Be careful what you wish for, beautiful girl.”

“I also said I love you dangerous.”

“And I love giving you what you want.”

We kissed again, with more tenderness this time and he brought my arms down, placing them around his neck.  The razor-sharpness of the energy between us eased but for the rest of the evening it remained a slow burn, tantalizingly close and Ben would use it to his complete advantage.

Later, sitting in the booth in the hotel restaurant, he followed up the pinch to my bum with a glare.  It wasn’t terribly convincing but still, I wanted him to know I thought he’d been a good sport.  He’d taken more than his fair share of ribbing from me during The Great Sheep Field Debacle of this afternoon, so my latest jab about being excluded from fan selfies (which I had no desire to appear in anyway) had, maybe, been a bit much.

“Sorry,” I smiled in sincere apology, “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You rarely can, my sweet,” he smiled back, “it’s one of the things I love best about you.”

Linda was busily digging through her enormous bag, searching for her reading glasses and the background music and noise of clinking glassware and cutlery provided a small measure of privacy.  Leaning into Ben's arm, I reached up and gently drew my finger down the bridge of his nose to land at the deep curve of his top lip.

I whispered, "You're one to talk about restraint."

His brow arched and his lips barely moved when he answered, "Mmm, restraints...another thing I know you like."

Less than half an hour had passed since he’d pressed himself to me, my wrists bound by his hands, and I could still feel his mouth on my throat.  It was easy to forget there was anyone else in the room until he broke eye contact and grinned at Linda.

“I’ll never have to worry about my head getting too big; Kai has a special gift for keeping me in touch with reality.”  He said, bringing her back into the conversation.

Our waiter appeared at the tableside to tell us about that evening’s specials and Ben suggested we all share a bottle of Bordeaux while we decided what to eat. 

Waiting for the wine to be delivered, Linda found her glasses, fidgeting with the chain attached to the ear pieces, adjusting it so they could hang around her neck and wouldn’t go AWOL again.  She was buttering a piece of bread as we read our menus and out of nowhere dropped a statement of startling clarity, picking up where Ben had left off.

"If you ask me, I think the two of you are very well matched." She peered over the top of her reading glasses at us, her eyes twinkling, “There’s that saying about opposites attracting but I don’t think the two of you are that dissimilar.  Other than in appearance, where you couldn’t be more different – tall and shor…not so tall,” she caught herself and I chuckled, “blue eyes and brown.  On the surface, you’re a study in contrasts but inside, where it matters, it seems to me you’re more alike than not.”

“Do you think so?” I asked, amused but not sure if I agreed with her.  

“I do, yes.” She paused, her cheeks turning pink, “Oh dear, have I put my foot in it?  I do have a tendency to be a little too familiar with my couples but you’ve only just been talking about privacy and here I am, blathering on.  You must think I’m an awful busy body.”

I assured her I didn’t mind at all and I glanced at Ben who leaned back in the booth, rubbing his finger over his lips the way he did when he was thinking.

“No, go on,” he invited, “given your experience as a wedding planner, I find your perspective interesting.”

Encouraged, she set her piece of bread down and leaned forward, elbows on the table.

"From what I’ve seen in the short time I’ve known you, you share a sense of humour and you’re both well spoken and intelligent, though, admittedly, you differ a bit there too.  Ben’s education is obviously of the classical variety while I think Kai has a bit more of what you might call street smarts.”

Grinning, I interpreted for her, “I think that’s Linda-speak for ‘Ben’s guileless and Kai’s more naturally suspicious’.”

“What I really think you are, for all your poking fun at him, is protective.” She clarified then looked to Ben, “I've noticed the way you always need to be in contact with Kai.  It’s affection, yes, but it’s also keeping her safe, looking after her.” Her eyes came back to mine, “And he’s the one who has the lawyers and the army of PR people but you’re the one who’s always looking over her shoulder, alert for trouble.  It’s not that he’s helpless by any means, but I get the feeling that where he’s concerned, you’re a lioness and god help anyone who crosses the line with him, because they’ll feel your wrath.”

We had been holding hands while Linda was speaking and just then, he clasped his fingers more tightly with mine.  I always considered him the protective one and other than the incident with Cass, hadn’t really thought of myself that way, but her words rang true.  The thought of Ben being hurt or taken advantage of was the fastest road to fury for me. 

A quiet had fallen over the table, an almost embarrassed silence that she, a virtual stranger, had seen straight to the heart of _how_ we cared for each other.  Seeing Ben’s shy smile I knew he’d understood too and stretched up to press a tender kiss to his lips.  The wine arrived and was poured but we still weren’t ready to order and asked the server for a few more minutes.

Linda picked up her wine glass, raising it as if for a toast and gave us a nod of acknowledgment, “I get to know most of my couples at what tends to be an incredibly stressful time and I hear a lot of demands, encounter a great deal of self-absorption.  When I ask questions about your wedding, you either say, ‘I want him, or her, to be happy’ or you each tell me you’ll discuss it with the other and get back to me.  In my experience, that bodes well.”   

We drank to what sounded like a blessing from our fairy godmother and for once neither Ben nor I had a smart assed comeback.  She had been a wedding planner for a very long time, so maybe it shouldn’t have surprised me that she had a knack for seeing below the surface of the couples she worked with but I was still impressed by how accurately she’d read us.  Then something occurred to me.

“Wait a minute.  Has Charlie been blabbing to you?” I asked suspiciously.

“Or my Mum?” Ben suggested.

Linda grinned gleefully, proud of her accuracy, but then her phone began ringing and she looked annoyed. “Drat, I thought I’d turned that off.”

Glancing at the display, she apologized, “I am sorry, but I think I’d better take this.  It’s my early December bride, who's been tearing her hair out over dueling bridesmaids.”

She got up, her heels tapping busily on the hardwood as walked quickly toward the lobby, her phone glued to her ear.  As Ben perused his menu, he shifted a little closer to me and reached under the table, resting his hand on my leg, his fingers working their way between my thighs.  I smiled, not looking at him.

“Must you?” I asked softly, glancing at the bus boy re-setting the table nearest ours.

“Yes, I must.  You know that little fantasy you spun for me,” he whispered, giving my leg a squeeze, “about sneaking away from a party?  Raising the possibility of getting caught?  Turns out, I find the idea of playing with you in public rather,” he cocked an eyebrow, “tantalizing.”

I swallowed, “I’m not sure I'd find the reality quite as stimulating as the fantasy.”

He leaned forward, adjusting his glasses as he read the appetizer list, “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Turning to study his profile, I could see he was amused, underneath the teasing, provocative talk.  He was enjoying himself and, I thought, waiting to see if I’d call his bluff or not.

Trying to sound calm, I pointed out, “Linda is far more observant than I’d realized.”

“Yes, she is and that waiter does seem determined to hover as close as possible.  Do you think either of them would believe I was feeling you up under the table,” he smirked, his fingers gliding over the silky cloth at the apex of my thighs, “or would they think they were imagining things?”

Catching him by the wrist to slow his progress, I considered whether he would really be so reckless.  I decided not.  While he loved to find new ways to excite me, and in the process, himself, I didn’t think he’d actually take a chance like this.  Although…back in our room, I had unthinkingly encouraged him when I’d reacted the way I did.

“I think you’re flirting with danger if you go any further.  Look at me.”  I waited until I had his attention, “I know what you’re doing.”

“And what’s that?”

I tried to stare him down, “You’re trying to see if I’ll let you.  You’re testing my boundaries Cumberbatch.”

“Yes, I am." His fingertips pressed lightly against my mound, "But it was your idea, you’re the one who made up that story.  There’s a reason that scenario popped into your mind and I want to see if my theory is right.”

I frowned, “Theory?”

“Mm-hmm.  Other than the night I spilled wine on your dress and you had to change into my shirt in the loo, I don’t believe I’ve ever given you any reason to think I was interested in having sex in a place we could easily be discovered.  That, my love, was all your idea.”

He reached over and pried my fingers off his wrist, freeing himself from my grip.  My breath hitched as his hand pushed between my legs and I scanned the room to see if anyone sitting nearby might be able to see what was happening.

“It was just bedroom talk.” I protested.

“If I know anything about you, it’s that you always say what you mean.  You may have thought you made up that fantasy for my benefit, but it wasn’t only my response to it that got you so worked up that night.”

"This is not going to be a terribly valid experiment." I argued, trying to buy time while I thought of a better excuse.

He smiled and I could see he thought he had convinced me, "Why not?"

"Because," I said, "your data is compromised before you've even begun."

He stroked the thin fabric covering me, "How so?"

"I'm far too attuned to you to be considered an impartial subject.  I don't necessarily need to be interested in or curious about something new that we’re trying because basically, if I know it’s turning you on, it automatically has the same effect on me."

"It doesn’t matter that I already know that's true; hearing you say it is delightful. Especially," he chuckled, "since you seem to think you’ve made a case against me continuing."

Running my comment back in my mind, I realized I’d gotten myself all turned around and had done nothing but bolster his argument.

“Ben, you’re not seriously thinking this is a good idea?”

“Oh yes, I am.”

“The chance of someone noticing,” I sputtered, “you’d never…”

Coming closer, he pressed his lips to my ear and his warm, humorous tone was gone, replaced by an icy hiss, "Do you think I won’t?  When it comes to getting what I want, you should know better than to doubt me and what I want tonight is you, turned on and maybe ever so slightly on edge.  There's something undeniably exhilarating to me about the idea of all these nice, polite people sitting here eating their roast beef and thinking they're being bad by ordering dessert, all the while completely oblivious to the fact that you’re sat across from them with my fingers inside you.”

I bit off a squeak as his hand slid into my underwear to cup my pussy.

“If this really is too far for you, tell me now and I’ll stop immediately.  Otherwise, you’d better believe that before we leave this table, I’m going to have you ready for me.  I want you dripping wet and begging for it.”

My heart was hammering in my chest, my palms sweaty.  I was sure I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on a single thing Linda had to say.  

“Kai?  Tell me now, red light or green?” He urged me to answer.

We could hear Linda’s voice, asking the waiter about the risotto as they approached the table, giving us just enough notice for Ben to pull his hand away.  She slid back into her seat and as she made a big show of turning her phone off and putting it away, my eyes swept the room, taking in the tables nearest us.  Only two of the three closest were occupied, the diners seated at them seemingly intent on their meals and each other. 

I made one of the silliest decisions of my life.

“Green.” I said.

I should have stopped him right then, but I think a part of me still believed he wouldn’t dare.  Christ, was I wrong.

Linda looked confused, “Green?”

I smiled, covering. “Light green and cream, maybe a little bit of gold.  The colours we’ve decided on.”

She shook her head, “Of course!  Sorry, I had risotto on the brain.”

The waiter was hovering again, a phenomenon I had grown familiar with.  The service tended to be extremely diligent when dining with Ben.  The two of them were ready to order and I asked them to go first because I hadn’t really looked at my menu.  Once I knew what they were having, I made my choices, wanting us to try as many different things from the kitchen as possible but as it turned out, I may as well have ordered a bowl of gruel for all the attention I ended up paying to my meal.

Now that we were settled in, we got started.  Linda had her ever-present notepad and asked for more details on the colours we wanted, which led to the flowers, which led to the décor, which led to the cake, which led to me ordering another bottle of wine.  I was jealous of Ben’s ability to split his concentration.  Or I would have been if it hadn’t meant that it was destroying mine.  Throughout the entire meal, he switched effortlessly between talking about the wedding, eating his food, and getting his hand between my legs, all without giving any outward indication that he might not be fully engaged in any one of those tasks. 

I, on the other hand, was an utter mess.  Every time he’d slide his hand out of my underwear to use his knife or top up everyone’s wine glasses, or – and this one nearly killed me – feed me something from his plate with those same damned fingers I could taste myself on, I’d get a moment to pull myself together.  No sooner would the fog of arousal begin to clear than he’d lean forward, flip the tablecloth over my lap and his fingers would resume their determined march up my legs.  My teeth spent more time sunk into my lip to keep myself quiet than they did chewing my food.   Whenever our server appeared, I’d dig my fingernails into Ben’s wrist to stop his movement and I don’t know how many times I looked down to check whether anyone could possibly see what he was doing, but from anywhere above the table, it would only have looked as though his hand was on my leg.  At least, that’s what I told myself.

The plates were cleared and dessert menus offered.  Ben ordered the chocolate torte and Linda admitted she couldn’t resist strawberry shortcake.  I had hardly managed to eat half my meal and just ordered coffee.  I couldn’t think about food.  I could barely think about the wedding.  All I wanted was for the meal to end so I could get him back up to our room and we could finish what he’d started. 

Linda pulled her laptop out of her giant handbag.  By the time their desserts arrived she’d powered up and found the file she wanted.  She passed the computer over and we moved our glasses and cutlery to make room for it between us.  Ben ate his cake as we clicked through pictures of invitations, looking at the different fonts and styles.  I was telling them what I liked about the one on the screen when I felt his hand back under the table cloth.  He was staring intently at the computer while two fingers slowly worked their way up my thigh, raising the hem of my dress with them.  I glanced at Linda as I placed my left hand on top of his right, attempting to block his progress, praying our movements would be somewhat hidden from her view by the laptop.   I had been hoping he’d give me a break so we could make a decision on the invitations and we’d be done for tonight but he had other ideas.  Reaching over with his other hand, he wound his fingers in mine and smiling sweetly as he removed the barrier I’d attempted to create, raised my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers. 

I couldn’t yank my hand away without looking awkward and he nodded at the screen, telling me to click on the next picture.  His other hand continued its slow crawl up my leg, his fingers once again slipping into my panties.  I sat forward to scroll down the screen and surreptitiously flicked the table cloth higher over my lap, catching Ben’s grin out of the corner of my eye.  I was stuck, we both knew it and he was going to see how far he could go before I red-lighted him.  I tried to focus on the images as he caught my clitoris between two fingers and rubbed, up and down, hard and soft, until I was nearly squirming off my seat.

We had already talked about how we wanted our invitations to look, so I was able to make my final choices quickly even with his interference, but Ben continued to hem and haw, repeatedly asking me to click back or forward, pointing out minute differences as though they mattered _at all_ and he nudged his hand lower until he could get one long finger inside me.  My toes curled as he pulled out, stroked over my clit and back into me, over and over again.  It was all I could do to keep my eyes on the screen and keep clicking, my legs shaking and my heart pounding.  I was getting close and I would never be able to pretend it wasn’t happening.  I was about to stop him, the word ‘red’ on the tip of my tongue when Linda excused herself to go to the loo. 

The second she was gone, his voice, full of heat and seduction, was in my ear, “Come for me.”

“I can’t…” I whispered, seizing his hand under the table, terrified the waiter would choose now to make a reappearance.

He turned in his seat, curving around me to shield me from the room, “I’m going to make you come, don’t fight it.”

His fingers moved faster, swirling in circles, bearing down on my clit and when a soft moan escaped my lips, he silenced me with his mouth.  I held my breath as the room around me disappeared, my fingernails scraping against his sleeve as I shook and shivered, my senses overloading.  Falling against the tall back of the booth I looked up at him, seeing lust and a glimmer of triumph on his face.  Underneath both though, undeniably, was love.  It burned bright and clear which was why I trusted him, even after he had put me in this position.

Deep creases of amusement crinkled the corners of his almond shaped eyes, “I can’t believe you let me do that.”

“Neither can I.” I croaked.

We both started laughing and couldn’t stop, even when Linda came back and looked at us expectantly, waiting to be let in on the joke.  Ben scrolled back to the invitation I liked best and passed the laptop back to her.

“That’s the one Linda, on the cream coloured stationery with the green lettering.”

She nodded and spoke as her fingers raced over the keys, “I’ll forward this to the office and first thing Monday morning they’ll send them off to the printer with your guest list and they’ll send you a mock-up for your approval.”  She looked up, her finger hovering over the ‘enter’ key, “Last chance to change your minds.”

“Send it.” I said.

She tapped the button and closed the laptop with a decisive snap, “That’s it then, I think we’re all caught up for the time being.  Anyone up for a night cap?”

Ben started to answer, “I don’t think…”

I cut him off, “Yes, absolutely.  Just a small one, to celebrate.”

It was his turn for a little discomfort and I waited until we’d received our round of drinks before I dropped my hand into his lap.  I drank all of my whisky and most of his with a smile on my face and his prick in my hand.

We walked Linda to her room and said goodnight.  When I started up the staircase, his hands landed on my waist and I was torn between laughter and excitement as he ran behind me, practically lifting me up the stairs in his haste to get me back to our room.  I got the door open and barely got it closed before he was on me.  We shared one wild, desperate kiss in the entryway and then he had me up against the wall again, this time facing away from him.  His mouth was on my neck, his hands yanking at his pants as he freed himself and he pulled my dress up, exposing me, pulling my underwear aside. 

“Spread your legs.”

Trying to stay balanced in my high heeled boots, I steadied myself with my hands on the wall as he impatiently shoved my legs apart with his knee, his fingers first on, then in my pussy, readying me.  He’d been stoking this fire within me for hours and I couldn’t wait any longer.  When I reached behind me, grasping his thick, hard shaft, he grunted and I pressed him to my slippery crease. 

“Fuck me.” I urged, “Hurry up.”

He pulled his fingers from my pussy, grabbed his cock and drove it into me with a single thrust so forceful that I yelped.

“Unh!  Benedict…”

He stilled, breath hot on my neck, “Did I hurt you?”

“You know you did.”  I turned my head and looked into his eyes, “Do it again.”

He pulled back, lunged forward and I moaned his name over and over as he filled me, dragging me onto his length with his fingers clutching at my hips, hard enough to bruise.  He was fast and savage and I threw myself back to meet him stroke for stroke.  I couldn’t keep quiet, keening at the throb and sting, the sensation of fullness as he pounded at me.

“You’re so warm, so wet, you feel - oh Jesus.” He rasped in my ear.

His arms went around my shoulders and he leaned on me, his weight holding me in place.  I lowered my head and nipped his hand with my front teeth.

“Fingers,” I could barely get the words out, “in my mouth.”

His hand came up to my face and I opened to him, sucking on the fingers that he’d used to work me up to this frenzy. 

He gasped and abruptly stopped, “I’m going to…I can’t…”

He was trying to hold on, to make it last but I wouldn’t let him, arching my back, rolling my hips so he had no choice but to keep going, to move with me.  His hips slammed against my ass and I bit down on his fingers, pulling his other hand to my breast, holding it in mine, using his fingers to pinch my nipple and when I let out a deep sigh of pleasure, my head falling back onto his shoulder, he was lost.

“Oh fuck, ohh FUCK!” The last word a harsh cry as he gave in, groaning and shuddering.

I let his fingers slide from my mouth and ran my hand through his sweat-damped curls as we kissed feverishly, teeth meeting under our lips.

“I’m sorry love,” he said ruefully, fighting for air, “that wasn’t how I’d planned for the evening to end.”

He slipped out of me, letting my skirt drop and tucking himself into his trousers.  I turned, taking him in my arms and smiling up at him, his beautiful face flushed, eyes glazed.

“Why are you sorry?”

With a slightly abashed grin, he said, “I got too worked up.  I should have paced myself.”

“Which you didn’t because…”

His grin widening, he said, “Because of you.  I love you, I want you and being with you does things to me that I’ve never felt before, makes me behave in ways I never have before.  I can’t control myself.  Obviously.”

“That’s why you don’t have to apologize, ever.  And you don’t have to control yourself with me.  If it’s over in five minutes or lasts for five hours, it makes no difference; I’m satisfied because you give me all of yourself, every time.”

He took my face in his hands and kissed me.  What started soft, loving and gentle became heated and passionate when I scraped my nails down his back and pulled his body to mine, letting him know I would have him again.

“Why don’t we light the fireplace in the bedroom and open the champagne?  I promise to try and take things a little more slowly next time.”

“Yes,” I nodded and said, “or don’t.  Whatever you need, I’m yours Ben, all of me, every time.” 

We ended up spending the night on the floor.  The closest we got to the luxurious bed was pulling the pillows and quilt from it to make our nest in front of the fire.  We cuddled and talked and laughed, drinking champagne in the glow of the flames and when we made love, it was with a sweetness and tenderness equal to the intensity and ferocity of the previous time.  When Ben’s alarm rang, he quietly got up to shower and I fell back asleep until he was ready to go.  The last thing he did before he left was to wrap the quilt around me, pick me up and settle me onto the bed, tucking me in and pressing his soft lips to my forehead.

He whispered, “Sleep, my beautiful girl.”

As he went to stand up, I reached for him, hooking my fingers into the neck of his shirt and pulling him back to me. 

“I love you.” I said softly.

“I love you too.”

I could barely make out his features in the near darkness but I could see that he was smiling and I sat up.

“No Ben, listen: I. Love. You.”  I enunciated each word clearly.

“Sweetheart,” he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly, “I know you do.  I know.”

“God, I hate this feeling, knowing you’re going away from me.  I know it’s only a couple of days but all I can think is, what am I going to do when you’re in Prague for three months?”

“We’ll miss each other so badly it hurts but you’ll visit and I’ll fly home every chance I get.   Kai, you’re the strongest person I know and I need that from you, this time and every time, because I get my strength from you.  Knowing you’re at home waiting for me is the only thing that makes going away worth it.”

I looked at him, blinking slowly and I made a face.

“That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

He barked with laughter, “It’s barely five and I think I only got about three hours of sleep. What do you want from me?”

“In that case, it was a good try Ben.” I patted his cheek, “As long as I know you’re miserable too, I’ll survive.”

He pushed me back down onto the bed and kissed my mouth, “You’re awful.”

“One of us has to be and it can’t be you.  You’re too good to be true; very nearly the ‘p’ word.”

He looked confused and I clarified, “Perfect.  But you’re not, so don’t let it go to your head.”

“Understood.” He saluted. “Oh!  I keep forgetting to mention, you said you didn’t have anything much planned for this weekend so I left a couple of scripts on the desk in my office for you to read.  If you have the time or the inclination, I’d like to know what you think.”

Even half asleep, I was able to process this information and was curious.

“If you want me to, I will, but why me?”

“I’m always impressed with your readings when you run lines with me.  You pick up on subtext and nuance and I value your opinion.  Most importantly, you have a zero bullshit policy that makes you an excellent critic.”

I grinned at him, “And if I choose the one that ends up being filmed in Antarctica or Sub-Saharan Africa, I only have myself to blame when you’re halfway around the world for six months?”

“See?  That’s why I want you to read them.  Only you could be that quick on so little sleep.”

He kissed me goodbye one more time and promised he’d call later, then he was gone and I pulled the blankets over my head and went back to sleep.  I met Linda for breakfast at the much more civilized time of 8 o’clock but I was still stifling yawns with my hand and every time I did, she’d smile.  I began to suspect she had at least an idea of what had gone on the night before but she was too polite to say anything.  I hoped that courtesy would extend to the drive back to London, because we’d agreed we’d go back together rather than me taking the train. 

Dropping me off, she slewed into our driveway and I made a mental note to apologize to Ben, feeling much more sympathetic to being the one in the passenger seat with a lead foot at the wheel.  I unlocked the front door and stood in the entryway, feeling the stillness of the space.  I had plenty to keep myself busy, he’d be home in two days and I knew I was being silly, but knowing it changed nothing.  The flat felt empty.

I had plans to meet Leah at the museum for the afternoon but given Linda’s need for speed, had some time to kill.  I stood in the hall deciding what to do first, unpack or put in a couple of hours of work.  Kicking my bag to the side, I went to make a pot of tea and put on some quiet background music before powering up my laptop.

I clicked through my emails, hoping for replies to the query I’d sent out to the food banks the previous week and was pleased to see there were two.  The first was very polite but firmly turned me down – the same article I’d read had brought them a well-connected, well-heeled sponsor and though they thought my idea was a good one, felt my efforts could be of more use elsewhere.  The second was more encouraging, the manager of the group asking if we could schedule a meeting to brainstorm and see where it might take us.  I festered, wrote and deleted and re-read my reply until I was happy with it, then sent it. 

Pouring more Earl Grey, I took a look at some CVs Myra had forwarded, the second round of applicants from the ad we had posted.  We’d already interviewed four people, but none of them had been exactly what I was looking for.  She’d flagged the ones she thought looked promising and while I agreed with her assessments, I was torn.  I didn’t just want people who clocked in, did the job and went home.  My best employees were experienced and took real pride in their work, and for that, were rewarded with better pay than their peers doing similar jobs even at firms larger than mine.  On the other hand, I had to work within a budget and I could only afford to hire two part timers for the moment.  I sighed and said as much in my reply to Myra, then asked her to go ahead and start scheduling interviews when she was in the office on Monday, linking her to my calendar for the week.

I had to write to my Mum, and my brother Finn had sent me a whole list of questions he wanted answered so he could decide how much time to book off from work and whether he’d be flying in with our parents or on his own a bit later, but it was time to get changed and leave to meet Leah.  I sent Finn a quick note to say I’d get back to him in a couple of days and to just book the time and get his ass to England, then I went upstairs to unpack.

Leaving the car at home so I wouldn’t have to deal with parking, I took transit into the city and walked from the station at Russell Square to the museum.  Leah had texted to say she was waiting for me on the front steps and I let her know I’d arrived, seeing her a moment later, waving from where she sat near one of the huge columns.  We went inside and studied the map, negotiating our starting point.

When I’d first moved to the UK, I used to spend hours on my days off wandering through the British Museum, as awed by the displays and the history as I was by the fact that I was living there and had as much time as I wanted to take it all in.  One night Jem and I had had people over and I was talking about what I’d seen earlier that day when Leah mentioned that she hadn’t been to the museum since a school trip when she was 15.  Most of the rest of the people there echoed her experience, many saying they only went when they had out of town guests who wanted to see it and I was amazed that, with all there was to see, they didn’t go more often.  I had asked Leah to go with me on my next excursion and since then, we tried to go once a month or so.  We avoided the summer months and the accompanying crowds, but fall and winter would mean school groups, jostling and making noise so we’d decided that we’d chance going on a Saturday.

Either of us should have known it wouldn’t make much difference, every gallery being full of people but we took our time and meandered at our own pace, enjoying each other’s company as much as the displays.  We never followed a pattern, jumping from era to era and this week we concentrated on ancient statues.  There were two I was particularly taken with, a Roman one of an enormous dog, with a beautifully carved ruff and rippling muscles, and gallery 17 with its battle friezes and depictions of the Nereids clothed in flowing gowns that I could sit and stare at for hours.  Leah kept leaving me there and making little side trips and when I finally got up and went to the next gallery with her she grinned as I sighed deeply, gazing at the huge dog.  I glanced around the room, looking for guards.

“I’m going to touch it.” I said.

“No, you’re bloody not.”

“Look at it though,” I took my hand out of my pocket, “doesn’t it make you want to feel the contour of the stone?”

She elbowed me, “You can see the contours just fine.  Hands off.”

“One little touch.”

I reached toward the dog and she grabbed my arm, warning, “You’ll get us barred.  Then you’ll be sorry.”

“Good point.” I stuck my hand back in my pocket, resisting temptation, “Can you imagine going for a hike with this giant beast by your side though?  Running through the woods, exploring…”

She put on a thick West Country accent, “Chasin’ down poachers trespassin’ on yer land.”

I started to giggle and when she suggested we go out for a pint, I agreed.  As we walked up the road, looking for a likely pub she asked why I didn’t get a dog.

“You’re mad about them and now you know you’re going to be staying here, you should get one.”

“I’ve thought about it,” I paused to light a cigarette, “but I don’t know, in the city and everything.”

“It’s England, the whole country is dog crazy.  You can take them everywhere, even some pubs.  Oh, I didn’t think – does Ben like dogs?”

I nodded, “Loves them.  But that’s the thing, he’s going to be working a lot over the next year and that means I’ll be going away too, flying to wherever he’s filming.  And I’m not a lap dog in a purse kind of girl.  I like big dogs, so it’s not like I’d be able to take it on the plane with me.  It’d be fine when I’m home, I could even take it to work with me but I’d have to find someone I trust to look after it when I’m away.”

I stopped, noticing that she’d fallen behind and I turned around to see her standing still, pointing at herself with both hands.

“Duh.  My Mum breeds Labradors, remember?  I grew up with dogs and I’d have one myself if I didn’t live in an overpriced closet.”

“You’d dog sit?”

She put her arm through mine as we crossed the street, “Could I stay in your huge, two story flat on the Heath when you’re gone?”

“Yes.” I grinned, “No parties and no boys.”

“I’m going to assume all rules are open to negotiation.  I’ll get the first round,” she said as she swung the pub door open, “you see if there are any tables.”

We ended up snagging a couple of stools along the back wall and shared a plate of appetizers while we drank our beers.  She asked about Brantley Manor and I told we’d decided it was the right place for us, leading to more wedding talk and her showing me the dresses Charlie had found for her to look at.

Passing me her mobile she said, “I told him to throw out all these ideas and start again.  I’d said that, ideally, it would be something I’d be able to use again, either not too frou-frou or that I could shorten later.  Not only did he ignore me, but he seems to have forgotten that I’m on a budget.  I looked up one I liked on the internet and it’s £1300!  He’s lost his fucking mind.”

“Leah,” I looked up from the phone, “I know what you’re going to say because it’s what I would say, but hear me out - we know you’re a free-lancer.  When I invited Charlie to get involved, I knew full well this would happen, I even talked it over with Ben and we agreed, just pick whichever one you want and don’t worry about the price tag.  I want you to love your dress and be happy and comfortable and yes, to be able to wear it again for something else.  Ben and I will cover it.”

Her eyes popped and I watched the internal struggle play out on her face, understanding completely the battle between pride and sense and also a little bit of what I’d put Ben through every time we’d argued about money in what felt to me like the distant past.  Admittedly, it hadn’t taken me long to become accustomed to not thinking so much about what things cost, in my personal life at any rate.  With Down to Earth, I still watched the balance books like a hawk, determined to make a success of it on my own terms, but when I’d fallen in love with the new coat I’d just bought, I’d only briefly hesitated before whipping out my credit card.  Ben had succeeded in at least partially convincing me of the necessity of having options, especially because we went out so frequently.  I wasn’t frivolous, but I also didn’t mind paying for quality.

“I don’t know,” Leah said, clearly wavering, “you shouldn’t have to buy my dress.  I’m sure I can find something I can afford.”

“I’m sure you can too and I’m sure you’ll look great no matter which way you go.  But, one of the reasons I asked for Charlie’s help is because time is an issue and not only does he have access to a huge stock of options, he’ll make your life a whole lot easier by finding shoes and jewelry too, not to mention setting you up with someone who’ll customize your dress so it fits like it was made for you.  Let me do this for you Leah, as a way of saying thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking such good care of me when I moved here and treating me like you’d known me your entire life.  For being the best, most supportive friend I could have asked for when this whole thing with Ben started and for always having my back.  You have a Google alert on my name for Christ’s sake.”

She laughed and said, “The amount of Daily Mail drivel I’ve had to wade through…”

“Exactly!” I agreed, “That in itself is worth the price of a dress.” I offered her phone back to her, “Show me which ones you actually like and we’ll let Charlie know you want to try them on.”

“No, you first.” She leaned closer so she could see the display, “Let’s see if we agree on any of them.”

We looked together, commenting and feeling each other out to see if we were thinking the same way at all.

“I keep going back to this long green one.” I said.

“I did too, but I wonder if it’s because it looks a little like your dress; the leaves on the top are very similar.”

“Yeah, but it’s short sleeved and the skirt is fuller than mine.  I don’t know, I don’t mind the idea of us sort of matching and the colour is great.  But this striped one…”

“Yes?” She asked, totally noncommittal so I had no idea what she thought of it.

“O.K. well, I never in a million years would have thought of it, but I kind of love it.”

“Me too!  Oh, I’m so glad; I thought you’d hate it.”

I looked at it again, “You did?  Why?”

“You tend toward simplicity as much, or more than I do and there’s kind of a lot going on at first glance.  But without those flowers on the torso it wouldn’t be anything special.   The thing is, I like the cut and I could definitely shorten it to knee length and wear it again.  That’s the one I checked the price of.”

I grinned at her, “Email Charlie and find a day that works for him.  Let me know when and I’ll be there.”

I offered another pint but she begged off.  She had a late dinner date with a man she’d met while researching her latest article and still had to run home to change.  We hugged good bye outside the pub and she flagged down a taxi while I headed for the tube station.  Walking from my station to home, I stopped at a shop and picked out a container of ice cream.  Then halfway to the check out, I went back and grabbed a second one, a bag of crisps and a bottle of wine.  If I was going to have a lazy at home night, I’d do it up right. 

I got home and set myself up in front of the T.V. with all my necessities at hand.  I was curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch with a glass of wine when my phone rang and I grabbed the remote, pausing the program.

“Hello there.  How was your first day back on set?”

“Hello love.  It’s not over yet, I’m just taking a break and eating something while we wait for it to get a bit darker.  We’ve still got another 3 or 4 hours to go.”

“Oh no.  If I’d realized, I wouldn’t have kept you up all night.”

“Wouldn’t you have?”

I giggled, “No, that was a lie.”

“I thought as much,” I could hear the smile in his voice, “but not to worry.  I slept in the car all the way here.”

“Happy to hear it.” I sat up and reached for my wine, “I suppose they have to make the most of the couple of days they’ve got you, since this is it as far as your schedule goes.”

There was a pause before he answered, “Well, yes, about that…there’s no way we’re going to get through the re-shoots by tomorrow so I’ve just been on the phone with Feargal and he’s agreed they can work around me on the play for one more day.  I won’t be back until Tuesday.”

I stopped with my wineglass halfway to my mouth, “Tuesday?”

“Yes.  My driver’s going to pick me up early again and I’ll go straight to the theatre for rehearsal, so,” he sighed, “I won't be home until Tuesday night, to be precise.”

“Well, that sucks.  To be precise.”

“I know.  I’m sorry but…”

I stopped him, “No, it’s alright, it’s work and I know it’s out of your hands.  Doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”

“How about you let me write you a huge cheque and you can hire a bunch of people and stop going to work and just travel with me instead?”

I took a swig of wine and plunked my glass back on the coffee table, “Yeah, O.K.”

There was stunned silence, then a shocked, “Really?”

“No,” I snorted. “Idiot.”

“Ooh, you are annoyed.”

“I am, but not at you.  I’m annoyed at myself.”

“What on earth for?”

“I seem to have misplaced my independence.  I used to be good at being alone, enjoyed it even.  I was never bored or lonely and now, we’ve only been apart for half a day and I’m completely at loose ends at the thought of being on my own.  I’ve gotten so used to you being home that now you aren’t, I don’t know what to do with myself _.”_

The last sentence in particular came out sounding needier than I would have liked.

“I see,” he said quietly. “What did you do today?”

I told him and even to my ears, it sounded like I’d been on the go for most of it, from breakfast with Linda in the morning to saying good bye to Leah ten hours later.  But describing how I’d filled the day didn’t clarify what I was trying to say, which was obvious from his next comment.

“It sounds like you had a lovely, busy day.  There’s nothing wrong with needing some time to adjust and tomorrow, you’ll do something else and by Monday you’ll have your feet back under you.  You’ll see, by then, it’ll feel perfectly normal being on your own again.”

“The thing is, I don’t have to be on my own.  Leah and I did the museum today, I’m seeing Jem in the morning and Chloe and Liam have asked me to supper tomorrow night, but that isn’t the point.  The point is, as much as I love my friends and my work and my life, I love you most of all and I don’t feel right when you aren’t here.  On days when we’re both working, we sometimes go longer than we have today before we’re both home but it’s not the same.  I know you won’t be walking through that door tonight and it changes everything.  And yes, before you ask, I am aware I sound like a petulant teenager, so shut up.”

Picking up my wine again, I stared at the ruby liquid in the half-empty glass.

He chuckled, “I never thought any such thing.  All I was thinking was how much I love you and what, if anything, I can do to make you feel better.”

“Nothing.  You have to work, I have to work and the fact of the matter is, we’re going to be spending much longer periods than three days apart in the not too distant future and, realistically, for the rest of our lives.  I’ve been spoiled by having you home filming and rehearsing the play and I’m only now confronting the reality of that.  I’ll be fine, once I’ve finished growing up a little.”

“Just a little?”  

“Yes.  Just the tiniest bit.  I bought ice cream and I’m sure that will help.”

“It certainly won’t hurt.” His voice softened, “Does it help at all to know that I’m not enjoying this any more than you are?  That every time I think of you being there and me being here, I feel like I’ve been punched in the chest?  You, my love, are not the only one who’s been spoiled by how much time we’ve had together recently.”

I closed my eyes and listened to him breathing.  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“When I said I wanted you to be as miserable as I was, it didn’t occur to me that it would break my heart to hear you say you were.”

“No, you can’t have a broken heart.  I’m the one with the broken heart.”

I giggled, “Ben, please don’t make this a contest.  You know how competitive I am.”

“I most certainly do.  Let’s just agree to being equally distraught, shall we?”

I swirled the wine in my half-full glass, letting his silliness cheer me.

So,” he changed the subject, “how are you going to entertain yourself this evening?”

“By lying around in your Batman t-shirt and eating ice cream while I watch television.”

“That was in the laundry.”

“Yeah, I took it out.  So what?”

“I wore it to run in, isn’t it a bit…aromatic?”

Dropping my voice to its lowest register, I purred into the phone, “Oh god yes.  Yes, it is.”

He inhaled deeply and blew out a slow breath, “Woman, you will be the death of me.”

“Do you know what the French call an orgasm?” 

“La petite mort.” He whispered.

“Tell me Ben, do you think I could talk you to…death?”

“Don’t even think about it Kai.  I can’t have this conversation with you right now, I’m at work.”

“Said the man who fingered me in a restaurant.”

He burst out laughing and changed the subject again, “What are you watching on telly?  Anything I might like?”

“I seriously doubt it.  It’s a not terribly good murder mystery and I figured out who did it in the first fifteen minutes.  The only redeeming feature is the incredibly hot male lead.”

Chuckling, he asked, “Who is he?  Anyone I need to be concerned about?”

“Some young unknown with gorgeous auburn curls, beautiful hands and the very slightest lisp that I find unaccountably sexy.”

“Jesus Christ.  Are you watching ‘Murder is Easy’?”

“I didn’t mean to but I saw the advert and I couldn’t help it.  You were riding a motorcycle.”

 


	35. Insecurity and the Modern Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai stays busy while Ben's away.  
> Mind you, she gets busy when he comes home too, know what I'm saying? (nudge, nudge, wink, wink)
> 
> ...yeah, I really need to get more sleep.

##  What You Put Into The World

Chapter 35 – Insecurity and the Modern Man

 

I was up early on Sunday morning, drinking tea with honey and doing vocal warm-ups.  Jem and I had recorded ourselves singing together at home plenty of times and I’d never thought twice about it but I was oddly nervous about the prospect of being recorded in an actual studio.  Driving over to pick him up, I realized it probably had less to do with where I was going to be singing, than what.  This was supposed to be my big surprise for Ben, his wedding present, and it was important to me that I get it right.  We only had the studio for a couple of hours and I didn’t want Jem to have to ask his friend Rita for more time, so I was putting pressure on myself before I’d even sung a note.

Parking places in this neighbourhood had always been hard to come by on weekends when fewer people were leaving early for work, and with no spots the first time I drove up the street, I circled the block.  I took it as a good omen that I found one on my second pass and pulled in a few doors up from Jem’s.  Even with the extra few minutes spent searching for a space, I was early and texted to let him know I was there.  I was watching the door when he popped his head out, scanning for my car.  I tooted the horn and he waved, beckoning me inside.

He’d left the front door open and when I went in, I could hear water running, the bathroom door open as well.

“Coffee’s on,” he shouted from the shower, “I’ll be 5 minutes.”

I poured a cup and went down the hall, leaning on the wall outside the loo.

“Where’s Alice?” I called.

“She doesn’t actually live here you know.  We’re perfectly capable of staying at our own houses for a night or two.”

I stuck my head around the corner, “Yeah but the only dirty dish in the sink is a mug with lipstick on it, so, she was here.”

He poked his head out from behind the shower curtain, a frothy crown of shampoo atop his head and gave me a sheepish grin, “Left for her Mum’s just before you got here.  I’m surprised you didn’t see her actually.”

“I think I probably got her parking spot.” I grinned back at him, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

A few minutes later when he joined me, his voice was muffled as he toweled his hair.

I was confused, “I haven’t talked to Liam in weeks, and who the hell even says that anymore?”

Tucking his shirt into his jeans, he gave me the same look I was giving him, repeating himself more slowly, “Leah says you’re buying her dress.  What did you think I said?”

I giggled, “Liam says he’s finding you fresh.  I didn’t think it made much sense.”

“Sometimes,” he laughed, pouring a cup of coffee, “I really miss having you around.”

“Aww, Jem.”

He spun a chair around and sat, forearms crossed on the chair back, his chin resting on them, “Then there are times like this, when I remember why I don’t.”

I clutched at my heart, “Ouch.”

He gave me his signature charming guy grin, complete with a dimple in his left cheek and it was easy to see why women fell at his feet.  He was adorable, even when he was being a shit.

“Need I remind you that I’m the one person who’s impervious to your charm?”

His mouth dropped open and it was his turn to play wounded, “Too soon Kai, too soon.”

I smiled innocently, “Tell me you’re sorry and you didn’t mean it.”

“I’m sorry and I didn’t mean it.  Now you.” He demanded, looking at me over the rim of his mug as he sipped his coffee.

“Fine,” I gave a half-hearted apology, “Sorry.”

“And..?” He squinted at me.

“And I didn’t mean it.  Of course you’re charming.”

“That’s better.”

“Just not as much as you think you are.”

“And you aren’t as funny as you think you are.  Now, back to my original point, Leah says you’re buying her dress for the wedding.”

“I am.” I stood to top up my coffee, “Charlie, no surprise, went shopping for her in cloud cuckoo land and she couldn’t have afforded half what most of the dresses he found cost.”

“Then why not tell him that?”

I leaned against the counter and looked at him, “Because it’s a waste of time to argue about it.  It’s easier to let him have his way with this and save the argument for something that’s actually important.  Anyway, why do you care?”

“Two reasons: one, I’ve known Charlie a long time and this is a slippery slope.  If he gets his way on all the ‘little’ things, it’s not going to be easier to put your foot down.  If anything, it makes it harder to reason with him and two, I know you and don’t want to see you get sucked in to some crazy circus of a wedding that you end up resenting because it isn’t what you wanted.”

For a moment, I felt my back stiffen, annoyed that he was adding another voice to the choir that chimed in with its opinions whenever the wedding came up.  But seeing the concern on his face softened my reaction, reminding me why he was my best friend.

“In the grand scheme, paying for Leah’s dress is a small thing we can do so she’s not stressed and worrying about it and if it has the added benefit of placating Charlie, well, good.  From here on in, it’s me, Ben and our planner making the decisions.  I’m still going to want Charlie’s advice but he doesn’t have a direct hand in anything else at this point.  However, he’s still my go-to guy, who knows everyone and can fix anything so if, god forbid, there are any last-minute disasters, that’s when I’ll need him spoiling for a fight, not now over something as relatively simple as what someone’s going to wear.”

“You say that now, but have you seen the suit he wants me to wear?”

I held his gaze, “If this whole discussion was nothing more than faux concern for my peace of mind in order to get out of wearing some suit, I’m going to seriously reconsider this whole man-of-honour thing.”

“That wasn’t the only reason, I promise, but, you have to see this thing.” He turned around and reached for his mobile on the counter behind him, “It’s fucking green Kai.  I’ll look like a giant, walking iced lolly.”

I sniggered at his description but the grin was wiped clean off my face when he showed me the picture on his phone and I didn’t care how early it was, I punched in Charlie’s number.  It rang until it went to voice mail so I hung up and re-dialed.  This time he answered.

“Jeremy,” his voice was sleepy and annoyed, “do you know what time it is?  This had better be good.”

“Charlie, it’s Kai.  Are you awake?”

“No.” He sounded like his face was buried in his pillow.

“Get up Charlie.  It’s important.”

I heard him shifting around and yawning, then, “Alright, I’m up.  What’s the big emergency?”

“I’ve just seen the suit you suggested for Jem and no.  Just, no.”

“That suit is a masterpiece,” he was wide awake now, “you just don’t understand fashion.”

“I understand that suit may look great on some skinny, 20 year old model stalking down a runway, but on Jeremy?  Give your head a shake Charlie.  Ben and his groomsmen are wearing black with green ties and waistcoats and I won’t have Jem standing out in the crowd looking like the fucking Riddler.”

“The Riddler!?” He sputtered, “It’s Dolce and Gabbana!”

I broke out laughing at his offended tone, and the fact that he thought the brand would somehow sway me, “I don’t care if you designed it yourself, it’s completely wrong for Jem.”

There was a brief pause while he digested what I’d said before he sulkily replied, “I thought this was going to be fun.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“No, you aren’t.” He sighed, “Fine.  Jem can wear boring black with a green tie and I’ll wear the fantastic Dolce.”

“Charlie,” I smiled, “why do I think this was your plan all along?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m sure.” He said archly, leaving me with little doubt I was right, “Now if you’re quite finished berating me at this ungodly hour, I’m going to hang up and go find some Paracetamol for my hangover.”

“Love you Charlie.” I said brightly, trying to cheer him up.

“Of course you do.  Everyone does.  See you Thursday.” He said and rang off.

I hadn’t heard from Leah, but apparently, we were doing dresses on Thursday.

“You’re off the hook,” I told Jem, “and Charlie’s going to wear the iced lolly suit.”

“That’s a relief.”

Something occurred to me, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit.”

“That’s because I don’t own one.”

I scrubbed my face with my hands, “I’ll talk to Ben and you can go with him to his tailor to have one made.”

“I’m paying for it myself.” He said.

“Leah’s a poor free-lancer.  You’re a successful restauranteur.  You can afford your own suit.  Besides, I’m all argued out.”

“Good.  That should make the recording session go a little more smoothly than I was expecting.”

“Shit, look at the time, we have to go!”

Jem downed the last of his coffee while I put my shoes back on.  He programmed Rita’s address into the navigation system for me, explaining he’d only been there a couple of times and he’d never been the one driving so he couldn’t remember exactly how to get there.  Traffic on the motorway was relatively light, and we made good time until we turned off after about an hour.  From there, it got narrow and twisty, the few people we came across either on horseback or walking at the roadsides and I had to slow right down to the speed limit.  We came to Rita’s driveway, marked by a wooden sign with a crowing rooster carved into it, announcing we’d arrived at the Rising Sun B&B. 

I signalled the turn and asked Jem, “A bed and breakfast and a recording studio?  How does that work?”

“When they bought the property, they raised the house and dug out the basement, so the studio is purpose-built and completely sound proofed.  Rita’s husband Michael used to run the restaurant at the King’s,” Jem said, mentioning the very upscale hotel he’d once worked at, “that’s how we met.”

“Oh.  I assumed you knew Rita from playing music.”

“No, I knew Michael long before.  He gave me my first real break, hiring me as Sous chef and he’s been a supporter ever since.  Rita and the music, that was a happy coincidence.”

The driveway followed a stream, curving back into the trees and meandering along until it opened up to reveal a solid old farmhouse.  There were a couple of other vehicles in the drive and I was helping Jem get his guitar and banjo out of the back of my Rover when the front door opened and Rita called a greeting.  She was striking, tall and slender with long, steel grey hair cascading down her back.  She wore jeans with a multicoloured shawl around her shoulders and her no-nonsense boots looked well worn and had mud stains on the toes.

She came out to see if she could help, then escorted us inside, offering tea or coffee.  We followed her, shoes clicking on the slate floor, through the house and into the bright, sunny kitchen.  Billy and Rick, the musician friends Jem had invited to play with us, were already seated at a big trestle table which was piled high with baskets of freshly baked bread, pots of jam and dishes of butter.  I was in heaven.   

Once she’d re-filled the tea and coffee pots from a huge cast iron kettle that was steaming away on the back of the stove, Rita joined us.  She said she’d take us to the recording studio after breakfast and went back to the stove to soft boil eggs she’d collected only that morning.  I took a bite of bread, still warm from the oven and smeared with butter, groaning with delight.

“This is so good.”

“Just about everything on the table we made ourselves.” She explained, “My husband runs the B&B, I have the studio and we share the farm work.  He’s got guests in the dining room right now, but he’ll pop in later to say hello.”

We ate and talked, Billy and Rick being familiar to me from open mike nights at Jem’s restaurant.  Rick played bass guitar and was a decent drummer, Billy was equally adept on both mandolin and fiddle.  They were both talented improvisers and I was looking forward to playing with them again.  I had forced myself to stop after my second piece of bread, not wanting to be singing on a full stomach but it was a battle, one that Jem lost, asking for more and Rita obligingly sliced another loaf.  Some of us more sated than others, we all pushed back from the table to digest and Rita asked what we were recording.

“Kai and her partner Ben are getting married in January and she’s making him a wedding present.” Jem said.

Rita smiled, “What a sweet idea.  What are you singing?”

“Are you familiar with The Dixie Chicks?”

“Not terribly.  It’s one of theirs?”

“Yeah.  It’s called ‘Lullaby’.”

“Sing it for me.”

I gave her a look, “You want me to sing it now?  Here?”

She laughed at my reaction, “This kitchen has seen more than its fair share of musicians jamming.  There’s no judgement here; go on.”

I cleared my throat and took a deep breath, then I sang the first verse and chorus.

          ‘ _They didn’t have you where I come from,_  
          _Never knew the best was yet to come._  
_Life began when I saw your face,_  
_And I hear your laughter like a serenade._

 _How long do you want to be loved?_  
         _Is forever enough, is forever enough?_  
_How long do you want to be loved?_  
_Is forever enough, ‘cause I’m never, never giving you up._ ’

Opening my eyes, I looked first to Jem who gave me a nod of approval, then to Rita.  I didn’t think she’d be overly critical; she knew I wasn’t a professional like most of the people she worked with but that was precisely why I hoped she’d at least think I sounded alright.

“I think you sound great and the song’s beautiful.  What a perfect gift.  What made you choose it?”

“Yeah,” Billy chimed in, “I wondered that too when Jeremy sent me the sheet music.  I used to sing it to my daughter when she was little so I never thought of it as a love song but I guess it could be.”

“That’s how I’ve always thought of it, but maybe that’s because I don’t have kids.” I shrugged, and added, “Ben travels a lot for work and he doesn’t sleep well when he’s away so we talk on the phone.  One night, he asked me sing him something.  Because of the title, that was the first thing that popped into my head.  It’s sort of a tradition now and it's come to mean enough to us that we’d decided it would be our first dance when we get married.  He doesn’t know yet, and won’t until the day, that the recording that plays will be me.” 

“I don’t know about him, but if someone did that for me, I’d be thrilled.  It’s pretty and such a personal gift.  And, on that note,” Rita smiled at her own pun, “are you ready to get started?”

Together, we gathered up all the instruments and followed Rita outdoors and around the side of the house to a set of stairs leading down to the studio.  When Jem had said it was in the basement, I imagined dark and dingy but from what little I now knew of Rita, I wasn’t surprised to find a warm, welcoming space.  The ceiling in the control room was high so it didn’t feel claustrophobic and a sofa and a couple of armchairs sat against the back wall, next to a mini fridge full of water bottles.  The studio space was smaller, making for better acoustics and painted a deep, warm shade of red.  It was nicely lit, with all the bulbs on dimmers so you could choose your own atmosphere.  Partially burned candles were in holders or melted to plates all over the room and there was a vague whiff of pot in the air.

Rita sat at the panel and began flicking switches, bringing the recording equipment to life, “It’s up to you, of course, but usually I start with the musicians laying down the backing tracks.  That gives both them, and you, a chance to relax and get comfortable in the space.  Once we’ve got a few solid takes down, we can bring you in to record the vocals.”

“Fine by me.” I agreed, happy to leave the decision making in her hands.

Jem, Rick and Billy had played together many times before today so even though they’d never done this song as a group, there was no hesitation on their end.  All three dove in and after only a few run-throughs, began to suggest some changes but Rita stopped them.

“Hold on one second guys,” she keyed the internal mike, “let me run something by Kai.”

She switched her mike off and with a shrug and a smile said to me, “A good producer has to be able to adjust on the fly so before they get ahead of themselves, why don’t we get an idea of what you want to do with it?  It’s your song after all.”

I nodded and she went back to the microphone, “O.K. before we start shaking things up too much, let’s see how it works with the vocals.  That’ll give us a better idea of her phrasing and we can make adjustments from there.  Sound good?”

They agreed and Rita gave me the option of either going alone into the booth and listening to the music with headphones, or joining the band in the studio.  It wasn’t even a toss up for me.  Used to being onstage with a group, that’s what felt familiar to me and I thought it would feel weird to be separated from them.  The first couple of times I sang it, I was half-sitting on a stool but I could hear the tension in my voice so the next time, I stood, swaying to the music, holding the mike in its stand with both hands.   My eyes closed, I could forget where I was, picturing Ben in my mind, and it made all the difference.  I found my voice, soft and a little breathy as a lullaby should be, but strong and confident in the choruses and I let myself go with it.

As the last note faded into silence, I opened my eyes and Rita was smiling to herself as she punched keys on her panel.  She spun her finger in a circle, telling us to go again immediately and this time, when we finished, she called us back into the other room to have a listen.

I’d never heard myself recorded this way and couldn’t stop grinning as my voice and the softly twanging chords reverberated through the speakers.  The backing track sounded a little thin with only guitar, bass and mandolin so once again, I sat with Rita while Jem switched to his banjo, Billy swapped the mandolin for the fiddle and Billy tapped out the rhythm on hand drums.  They were having so much fun, their mood infectious and I listened happily, adding the odd suggestion as they ran through the tune again and again and Rita laid the tracks over each other, building the layers of sound.  Sometime later, the door opened and Rita’s husband Michael came in.  I don’t know what I was expecting; maybe a tie-dyed t-shirt and Jerry Garcia beard, so I was a bit stunned by his appearance.  He was tall, strongly built and red haired.  With his plaid flannel and neatly trimmed moustache, he looked so much like my Dad that I was momentarily speechless.

We shook hands and the movement caught Jem’s eye.  He looked up, his face brightening at seeing Michael.  When they finished the song, he came out to say hello and they hugged.

“You all sounded great,” Michael said, “don’t let me interrupt, I just came down to say hello and see if you needed anything?  Coffee or tea, wine?  Something to eat?”

Still full from breakfast, I couldn’t have eaten a thing.  With my plans for dinner and knowing the way Liam always cooked enough for an army, I only asked for tea but the men were more than happy to take advantage of Michael’s offer, especially after the spread that had been laid on earlier.  It seemed like a perfect time to take a break and they began to troop up the stairs after Michael but Rita laid her hand on my arm.

“I’m going to stay here and keep mixing.  Give me an hour or so and I’ll have the copy made for you.”

“Thank you Rita.  I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have had the opportunity to do this – properly, I mean.  Jem and I have recorded ourselves before, but only in his living room, using his computer and it’s good but it’s not the same as this.  I thought it was the right gift for my fiancé when I came up with it, but it’s turning out so much better than I’d hoped.”

“Any friend of Jeremy’s is a friend of mine.  He obviously cares for you a great deal and it was important to him that you were able to do this.” She leaned back in her chair, “Anyway, I’ve always believed that what goes around, comes around.”

“Me too.  I think you get back what you put in to the world and you’ve earned yourself some good karma today.” I laughed.

She inclined her head in thanks, “And you and the band have added a little bit of beauty, which is always welcome.”

Jem and Michael were telling kitchen stories and catching up on news of former colleagues when I joined them.  Michael had made sandwiches and poured wine for everyone but I stuck to tea.  I relaxed and listened to them reliving the old days when they worked together, trying not to stare at Michael with his uncanny resemblance to my father.  Sooner than I’d expected, Rita came up from the studio and presented me with both a CD and a flash drive, and she and Michael helped pack all the instruments back out to our cars.  We said good bye to Billy and Rick and I thanked them all again until they were embarrassed and practically pushing me toward my car.

We were barely out of the driveway when Jem reached into the back seat and got the CD out of my bag, insisting that we listen to the final product and I was so pleased with it.  It had all the sweetness of a lullaby but with the full, rich sound provided by multiple instruments.  The way Rita had mixed it, it didn’t sound sleepy or too quiet and when it ended, it was me who hit the re-play button to hear it again, grinning from ear to ear. 

“It’s good, isn’t it?” I said when it was over.

“It’s not just good, it’s really fucking good.  Ben’s going to lose his mind when he hears it.”

It had begun to spit rain and I tapped the wipers to clear the windscreen.

“I hope so.  I hope he loves it because it did occur to me at one point that presenting him with a recording of myself and saying, ‘here you go, I’m your wedding present’ might come off as a bit arrogant.”

Jem snorted, “Hardly.  I would bet actual paper money that if anyone were to ask what he wanted, for Christmas or his birthday or a wedding present, he’d only have one answer.  I think you can be certain he’ll be over the moon.”

Back in the city, I pulled up a few houses from Jem’s and cut the engine.

“Thank you Jem.  It means the world to me that you set this up.”

“I’m glad I was able to help.”

We hugged and as he was getting out of the car I said, “Hey, why aren’t you coming to Chloe and Liam’s tonight?”

He rolled his eyes in disgust, “Liam says I bogart the baby.  What does he expect?  Even if she weren’t my goddaughter, she’s the sweetest, most perfectly fat little love sponge ever.  And she’s got that heavenly new baby smell.  I adore her.” As I giggled at his description he continued, “Besides, with Alice away, I need to use my time wisely and get my books up to date.  Payroll this week and I don’t have a Myra to do it for me.”

“Sucks to be you.” I said cheerfully.

He slammed the door in my face and went to the rear of the car, waiting for me to pop the release so he could get his banjo and guitar out of the back.  I put my head down, rummaging in my purse and ignored his tapping on the rear window.  As the rain began to fall harder, the knocking increased in volume and I looked up, catching his eye in the rear-view mirror. 

He threw his hands in the air, “Open it.”

At least I think that’s what he said.  The noise of the rain drumming on the roof had drowned him out.  I gave him a thumb’s up and went back to my purse.

An indistinct, “Kai!” and he knocked again, harder. 

I waved.

His fist thumped on the glass and this time, I heard him clearly, “Open the door, arsehole!”

I punched the button and grinned as he stuck his head under cover.

“Such language!  What will your neighbours think?”

Scraping his wet hair out of his eyes, he said, “They’ll think, ‘Oh, Jeremy’s lost his temper.  Kai must be visiting’.”

I turned, peering at him from behind the headrest, “Still miss me?”

“Yes.  Having you around made me realize how lucky I was.” The corners of his mouth rose in a devilish smile, “Lucky to never have had an obnoxious little brother.”

I whipped around and thumbed the door button.  There was a quiet ‘ding’ and the hatch began to close.  Jem swore, grabbed both his instrument cases and ducked out of the way, just in time.  The lock clicked and he stomped toward his house, throwing me a dirty look as he passed.

“Wait!” I rolled down my window, “Come here for a second.”

He came back and leaned inside, dripping water on the interior.

“What do you want now?”

“Take this.”

He frowned at the cash I was offering and asked, “What’s that for?”

“To cover Rick and Billy’s bar tabs for the next couple of weeks.”

He laughed and took the bills, tucking them into his pocket, “The fastest way to a poor musician’s heart.  They’ll be tickled.”

I waved to him as I pulled out and, glancing at the clock on the dash, decided to go straight to Liam and Chloe’s.  I’d be early but if I went home first, I’d be late.  Taking my sweet time, stopping off to pick up flowers and a couple of bottles of wine, I still arrived too soon to ring the bell.  So I sat in my car outside their house killing time, checking my email and resisting the temptation to listen to the CD again, but not very hard.  I hummed along, debating the difference between self esteem and vanity.  My phone rang and the display showed it was Liam.                 

“Hi.”

“Why are you sitting outside our house like a stalker?”

I chuckled, looking up to see him peering at me through the curtains, “I was too early and I didn’t want to catch you flat-footed.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, get in here.”

He opened the door as I walked up the front steps, “Hiya.  My timing was a little off after I dropped Jem at his place.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said, taking the flowers and wine so I could hang up my coat, “Since Charlotte was born, all schedules have flown out the window.  I can’t actually remember when we were last on time anywhere and as for supper, some nights we’re sitting down at 4 o’clock like a couple of O.A.P.s and the rest of the time we fall asleep before it’s ready and don’t end up eating until half past ten.” 

I sniffed the air as we got to the kitchen, the aroma of roasting chicken and garlic perfuming the room.  Chloe was seated at the table, breast feeding the baby who was making contented, creamy burbles and kneading her mother’s chest with her tiny, pink fists.  Liam was digging in the drawer for a corkscrew.

“Hello Kai, how are – ow – you?” Chloe’s pretty face had momentarily scrunched up in discomfort.

“I’m fine…you?”

“Good, yeah.” She winced, “Except my baby is apparently half human, half Hoover.”

Chloe gently disengaged the baby from her left side against her squeaky protests and with a dexterity borne of practice, switched her to the other one, getting her re-positioned before she had a chance to howl.  She sighed and relaxed as the baby clamped on and resumed feeding then, looking at my face, began to giggle.

“You look absolutely horrified.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.  I just didn’t realize…it hurts?”

“Not always.  In fact, it’s usually a relief, especially if it’s been a few hours between feedings but I have a little crack in one nipple and it hurts like hell when she’s on that side.”

“A crack?  In your nipple?” I was aghast.

“Yes, it’s fairly common, but it’s healing nicely.” Her eyes swept my face and she was amused, “I didn’t mean to scare you!  Cracked nipples are nothing compared to what I get in return.”

“Cracked nipples are only the tip of the iceberg,” Liam said cheerfully, handing me a glass of wine, “would you like to see the video of the birth?”

“Liam!  That wasn’t very nice at all.  Now look what you’ve done,” Chloe said as I blinked at him in appalled silence, “you’ve broken our friend.”

Liam grinned, “There’s got to be a reset button somewhere.”

He reached out and pressed the tip of my nose and I swatted his hand away.

“Why would you film the birth?  Why would anyone film the birth?  Are you actually going to watch it again?” I asked and they both laughed.

“No,” Chloe admitted, “I’m fairly certain if I watched it, I’d never want to get pregnant again.”

Liam raised his glass, “I’m fairly certain if I watched it, I wouldn’t be getting you pregnant again.”

I stuck my fingers in my ears, “I can’t listen to anymore of this.  Tell me how wonderful it is being parents, tell me how it’s everything you ever dreamed of or I swear to god, I’m getting my I.U.D. put back in tomorrow.”

Liam’s eyebrows were almost in his hairline and Chloe was grinning from ear to ear.

“That was fast.” Liam said.

“Shut up Liam, that’s not helpful.  So,” she looked so excited for me, “you’re trying?”

“I don’t know that I’ve thought it through enough go that far.” I sipped my wine, “It’s more that we’re…not, not trying.”

“Oh good, well as long as you’re sure.”

“Shut up Liam,” it was my turn to say, “that’s not helpful.”

The timer on the oven dinged and Liam got up from the table.  When Chloe returned from taking the baby to bed, we ate – chicken stuffed with lemons, garlic and onions and the butteriest mashed potatoes I’d ever had.  As usual, there was far too much of everything and while I washed dishes, Liam made up a container of left overs to send home with me.  Once the kitchen was clean, we sat down to watch a movie and when Charlotte woke up part way through, I finally got a chance to hold her.  I wasn’t paying much attention to the film, I was considering Jem’s description of the baby as I cradled her warm, cozy, fat little body in my arms.  He was right, I was thinking to myself, she was a love sponge and she was perfect.  It was at that moment that she squirmed, farted and began to emit an odor so foul that my eyes watered.

“Sweet Jesus, somebody help me.” I gasped, holding her away from my body, trying to get some distance between her and my nose.

“Maybe you should change her,” Chloe suggested, “for practice?”

“No, I’m good.  Really.”

Liam paused the movie and got up to take his daughter, “I thought you were made of sterner stuff Kai.  Milk poops don’t even smell.”

“Then somebody’s been feeding her hamburgers behind your back because that baby stinks.” I said and got up to get another half glass of wine.

All three of were us yawning by the time the movie ended.  I was too tired to do anything when I got home, except crawl into bed and check my messages, hoping Ben had called.  He had, leaving a message to say they were going to be shooting late into the night again but to try him when I got in.  There was no answer, so I left a message of my own.

_“Hello Ben.  I’m home and I had the most wonderful day.  I still missed you though.  I miss you now.  This stupid bed is entirely too big for one person.  Did I mention I’m missing you?  Good night my love, call me tomorrow.”_

On Monday morning, I went to work in the office for a couple of hours then spent the afternoon working outside in the pouring rain, trying to remember just why it was that I loved my job and this country.  It was after 6 and I was chilled to the bone when I finally squished up the stairs in my soggy boots.  After a hot shower, I curled up with a cup of soup to finish reading the scripts Ben had asked me to look at.

One wasn’t bad, or at least, the character that I thought they were looking at Ben for was well written, but the story itself was lacking and didn’t really fire my imagination.  The other though, was exceptionally good.  It was smart and fast paced with real emotional depth and as I read, I alternated between laughing aloud and getting teary eyed.

Near the middle of the story, there was one scene that brought me up short when I came to it.  I’d seen older work of his, with kissing or sex scenes, but that was before I knew him.  I’d never considered how I’d feel, now that we were together, knowing he’d be filming a love scene with somebody.  As I tapped my fingers on the page, I tried to picture it.  It wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done.  It made me a bit queasy, which I knew was ridiculous.  I could imagine him being filmed getting punched, leaping off a building, driving recklessly, all without batting an eye but the thought of watching him kiss someone else just made me feel ill.

But there was no way I was telling him that.  I’d made such a big deal of him not having to be jealous of Jem, who I’d lived with, who I loved, who’d known me longer than Ben had, that it would be totally unfair of me to be jealous when he’d only be doing his job, even if that job entailed him pretending to have sex with another woman.  Going back through the script, re-reading the scenes I liked best, I knew this part was perfect for him and if he ended up doing it, I’d deal with it.  

I was at work the next day, Tuesday, when Ben phoned to tell me not to hurry home.  He and his director, Feargal, had to have a sit-down after rehearsal and go over the notes from the couple of days Ben had missed so he’d be caught up.  He knew Feargal would suggest doing it over a drink and he didn’t expect to make it back before 8 or 9 o’clock, so I stayed late to finish some paperwork, disappointed, anxious to see him, but knowing that work had to take precedence. 

When I got home I reheated some of the leftovers from Liam, ate and tidied up then I opened a nice bottle of red and decanted it to breathe before going upstairs for my bath. By the time he got here, I wanted to have myself shaved, buffed and polished.  The last thing I did was to comb conditioner through my hair, pile it into a loose knot on top of my head and stretch out to soak, turning the hot tap with my toes for a warm up.  Laying back, I sank down until my chin was immersed and let the water run hot until I was nearly floating.  I relaxed, listening to the metallic plink-plink of the tap dripping and slowly became aware of another sound, previously covered by the running water.  Humming. 

“Ben?” I called excitedly, sitting up.

He came in, bare legged and unbuttoning his shirt, shut the door behind him and looked me up and down.

“Hello love.  Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“My eyes aren’t even sore and I can’t take them off you.”

“Can’t you?” He asked, and began to slowly strip his shirt off, “Shall I give you a little show then?”

He turned around and looked over his shoulder at me and I wolf-whistled in appreciation as his shirt slid down his strong, freckled back.  Dropping the shirt to the floor, he hooked his thumbs in the top of his boxers.

“More?” He growled suggestively, and I giggled.

“Give me a minute to rinse my hair and I’ll be right out.  You’re early.”

“I couldn’t wait to get home.  Poor Feargal; I wouldn’t let him drag me to the pub and raced him through his notes so fast I’m sure he forgot half of what he wanted to say.  Don’t get out yet, I thought I’d join you.”

He came and knelt next to the tub, leaning over for a kiss, which might have been slightly more successful if I’d been able to wipe the smile off my face and he said so.

“If you could just stop grinning like the Cheshire Cat, I’d like to get my tongue between your teeth.”

“Not possible, sorry.  I’m just too happy you’re home.”

He stood and shed his shorts, and I made room for him.  Stepping into the tub, he settled between my legs, carefully leaning back, and I folded him in my arms, pulling him against my chest.  Drawing my legs up, I hooked them around his waist, the water rising around us until it was spilling into the overflow, and his head fell back to rest on my shoulder.  I pressed my lips to his cheek and sighed with happiness when he brought his hands up to his chest and threaded his fingers with mine.

I held him and we soaked in the warm water, the only movement my lips softly brushing his neck and my nipples hardening against his smooth, wet skin as I breathed.  Lifting one hand from his, I traced his hairline over his ear and around to the nape of his neck.

“Why did your hair have to be so short for this movie?  It was getting so nice and curly and they’ve gone and cut it again.”

“The film takes place in the fifties, so it suits the time period better.  Feargal was a bit put out too.  He also wanted it longer, for the play.”

I thought for a second, “Because when it’s longer you look less controlled?”

He looked at me from the corner of his eye, “Exactly.  He says when it’s short, I look too much like a banker and not enough like someone who’d lose his temper and thump you at the drop of a hat.”

“Well, shit.  Now they’ve screwed your hair up you’re going to have to, what do they call it again?  Act?”

He chuckled, “Yes, that.”

“You know the other thing about short hair?” I asked.

“You can’t get a good grip on it?”

It was my turn to chuckle, even as I ran my fingers through his hair and gave a gentle tug, “No, I can still manage.  What I was going to say is, when it’s this short, I can see the white at your temple.”

His head came up, “You what?”

“Mm-hmm,” I smiled innocently as he glanced at me, “it’s only 5 or 6 hairs, but they’re definitely white.”

“I hadn’t noticed them.”

I ran my fingers over the spot, my wet fingers darkening his hair and making the silvery strands stand out, “I notice everything about the way you look because I’m always looking at you.  You probably don’t look as closely at you as I do.”

He didn’t say anything but I saw his brows draw together into a frown.

“I like it,” I assured him, “in case you were wondering.”

He turned his head so he could look into my eyes, making sure I was being truthful.

“As you’ve pointed out, when it comes to me, you’re hardly impartial so it’s all well and good if you like it, but I’m thinking about work.  Does it age me?”

“Not particularly, but even if it did, would that be so bad?  I’m sure George Clooney never considered dying his hair and it’s not as though his career has suffered for it.  Salt and pepper hair and a handsome face is a devastating combination.” I planted a loud kiss on his wet shoulder, “Chicks dig it.”

I was trying not to smile at the fragility of his ego, because I found it so ridiculous.  He’d be beautiful no matter what colour his hair was and I told him so.

“And anyway,” I concluded, “silver hair would suit you.  If anything, it’ll make your eyes stand out even more and they’re probably your best feature.”

He finally relaxed a bit, letting me draw him back into the water and asked, “Do you think so?”

“As far as performing, yes, definitely.  You can convey a world of emotion without saying a word.  For me personally, well…”

He smiled, his head resting once again on my shoulder, “For you personally…what?” 

I hid my grin in his neck, amused by his hinting for more, “It’s a toss up.  I could happily spend hours staring into your chameleon eyes and trying to decide what colour they are, but then I get distracted by the way the light falls on your cheekbones and that makes me look at your nose, which is, let’s be serious, perfect.  And once I’ve looked at your nose, I’m screwed because that leads straight to your mouth.  Don’t get me started on your mouth because we’ll be here for days, but suffice it to say the words sexy and seductive come to mind.” I pressed my fingers to his lips, “Also, cushiony.” He was laughing now, but I continued to run my fingertip across his mouth and kept going, “If I can manage to drag myself away from imagining the way your lips look when they’re curved around my nipples, and what they’re capable of doing to me when you get between my legs, or the sublime combination of joy and lust your kisses arouse…”

It was quiet, other than our breathing until, clearly amused, he broke the silence, “Kai?”, bringing me back to reality.

Disengaging my teeth from his earlobe, I said, “Sorry, my mind wandered.  Where was I?”

“Cataloguing my parts.  I believe you were about to mention my strong, manly arms or possibly my Adonis-like chest.” He said, striking a pose, flexing his biceps and letting me know he was in on the joke.

I hugged him tighter as I laughed, “Frankly, once I got past your mouth, I’m pretty sure I was going to jump straight to your penis.”

“Typical,” he groused, “one lousy kiss and you think you can use me as a sex object.”

“Hey!” I splashed water at him, “Whaddya mean, lousy?  I’ll have you know it’d be a fantastic, endless, and exceptionally…um… _invigorating_ kiss.  Then I’ll use you as a sex object.  And don’t pretend you mind; you’ve never complained before.  Now stop fidgeting and let me cuddle you a bit more before the water gets cold.”

Occasionally I might tease him about his huge feet or the frankly alarming size of his head, but I was careful to take his mood into account before doing so.  As much as we’d been making a game of it this time, I was aware there was a kernel of insecurity within him that meant he sometimes needed to hear what it was specifically about his looks, his physicality, that so captivated me.  He claimed embarrassment at being told how handsome he was and that was because, even now, he underestimated his appeal.  I knew, because he’d told me, how for most of his teenage years in particular, he’d avoided mirrors and considered himself funny looking.   At his parent’s house, I’d seen pictures of him from that time and though I could see in them the man that boy would become, I had to agree with his own assessment that he had sort of grown into his features as he got older.  In fact for me, he was getting better looking as he aged.

Still, that he didn’t always see himself the way I saw him was something I could understand.  Until I’d met Ben, my own confidence had mostly stemmed from anything other than my appearance.  It came from knowing I was intelligent, being good at my job and, in large part, from who my friends were.  I figured if I had friends like them, I had to be doing something right.  Otherwise, if I had considered my physicality at all, it was usually from a perspective of strength and capability. 

Looking in a mirror, objectively, I would have said I cleaned up well and was pretty enough but I tended to look at my flaws first and if you do that long enough, after a while, it’s all you see.  Lately I had become aware that, though it hadn’t happened overnight, my opinion of my appearance had changed and it was because Ben thought I was beautiful.  He insisted on telling me so, at length and at every opportunity and his relentless repetition had finally made me begin to see what he saw.  He had had my naked body painted larger than life and hung on the wall for his own pleasure.  It would have been ridiculous, given how I believed he loved me, how I never doubted his attraction to me, to have believed he would lie about finding me beautiful. 

And yet he, in spite of my telling him how beautiful, how desirable he was to me, still huffed impatiently at the mirror when he thought his hair was being weird or might run upstairs to change if I didn’t sufficiently camouflage a fleeting doubt at his choice of clothing.  And god forbid I should attempt to show him a picture in a magazine that I came across where I thought he looked particularly gorgeous, because he literally covered his eyes and refused to look, insisting - ‘I can’t’ - as though I were trying to force-feed him something disgusting.

Of course, I could tell him everything else I loved about him, his kindness, sense of humour, his intellect and how he pushed me to examine the way I thought - but he had friends who could do that and anyway, he had less trouble believing those things were true.  He didn’t lack for confidence in those areas the way he did about his looks, and it was rare that his insecurity showed, to anyone but me. 

One the one hand, it baffled me, to the extent that I’d once pointed out to him, after watching his mood spiral downward for two days prior to a photo shoot, that he had willingly gone into, studied and claimed to love, a profession where his appearance was nearly as important as his talent.  His response was that it was the work he loved and he’d never expected that his roles would be those of the classic leading man.  He’d firmly assumed that he’d be cast, not as the object of attraction, but for his awkwardness and ability to embody character rather than beauty.

On the other hand, his seeming inability to see what I saw made me even more determined to drill into his head that I didn’t simply find him aesthetically pleasing, but would actually get aroused if I stared at him for too long. 

To hear from the person you were most attracted to how you affected them, pleased them visually, was as important to him as to anyone and what did make complete sense was that feeling me respond to him was one thing, but wanting to hear why I did was entirely another.  Hearing those words from his mouth added a whole new layer of excitement for me; when I felt beautiful, I felt confident and nothing was sexier than that.  I wanted nothing more than to give that feeling back to him and if that meant listing each area of his body that I loved and lusted after, in detail, I’d do it, happily.

Pulling him back to me, I tightened my grip on his waist with my legs.  I kissed his neck, nibbled lightly at his shoulder and he sighed.

“Nice as this is,” he said as he began to run his fingers up and down my calves, “the position does limit my options somewhat.”

“Yes, it does.  I, on the other hand, am not inhibited in the slightest.”

He smiled, “You can say that again.”

“I,” I repeated, moving one leg, gliding my hand down the flat of his belly, “am not inhibited in the slightest.”

My fingers teased the head of his cock and he turned his head, opening his mouth to suck at my throat while I encircled him and coaxed him to hardness.  Taking my ankles in his hands, he pushed my legs open and leaned forward, pulling the plug.

“Wait, put it back,” I protested over the gurgling of the drain, “I have to wash my conditioner out.”

He didn’t answer, going up on his knees and twisting the taps, adjusting the water temperature.  The view was too tempting and I pinched his bum.  He grinned over his shoulder and turned back to me with the hand-held shower head.  I giggled at the sight of him, kneeling in the rapidly draining tub, half hard, with a look of complete impatience.  He crooked his finger at me and I moved toward him.  Taking my chin in his hand, he tilted my head back.

“Hold still.”

Bending over me, rinsing my hair, our mouths met and I lifted my hands to rest on his waist.  We kissed as his fingers moved through my hair, hot water spilling down my back and it felt wonderful.  Breaking from the kiss, I pulled myself closer to him, my feet pushing between his legs and I leaned forward to take his cock in my mouth.  He moved the spray over my body and I held him in my hand, feeling him harden as my tongue circled and I sucked.  I didn’t hurry, enjoying the sensation of him swelling in my mouth, responding to my slow, passionate attention.  My hands roamed his body, his nipples puckered from cold as the tub drained, muscles bunching in his back as I pulled more of his length into me and I repeatedly caressed the smooth curve of his waist above his buttocks, rocking him into my wet mouth.  His hands had stopped, the shower of water no longer moving on my skin as he closed his eyes and let himself concentrate on what I was doing. 

I cupped his balls in my palm, tugging and squeezing and his knees squeaked on the bottom of the tub as he slipped, his hips lurching forward.  It took us both by surprise and I gagged as his cock hit the back of my throat.  My quick pull backward and sound of shocked protest startled him and suddenly water was spraying around the room as, trying to keep his balance, he dropped the hand-held and it twisted around in the tub like a fire hose.  We were howling with laughter and grabbing for it when it flipped, the spray hitting me square in the face and I inhaled a lung full.

“Turn it off!” I shrieked, coughing and laughing as I covered my face with my hands.

He quickly spun to the taps and the hose dropped, lifeless, to the floor of the tub.  I peeked out from behind my fingers.

“Are you alright?” He grinned, water trickling off his chin.

“It went straight up my nose.”

I sounded like I had a cold.

Trying, not very successfully, to suppress a smile, he climbed from the tub and took a towel from the rack, holding it open for me, “Come on, out.”

I let him wrap me in the towel and stood, my hair dripping onto the floor as he took another towel for himself, winding it around his hips.  He walked over and tore off a length of toilet paper which he offered to me.

“Blow.”

“I was, before I was so rudely interrupted.”

He choked at my answer, his cheeks turning red.

I held the paper to my nose and blew hard, trying to clear my sinuses.  The honking sound I made was unavoidable.

“Sexy.” Ben said, biting his lip.

“Listen,” I said, “you don’t get to judge me.  It’s your fault I nearly drowned.”

“I slipped.”

“Yeah, I know.  I was there.”

There was a pause as he watched me, trying to figure out whether I was irked or just playing.  Making up his mind, he leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Nearly drowned?  That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Possibly.” I conceded, “All I know is, I couldn’t breathe, but then, that may have been due to the enormous penis being jammed down my gullet.”

He stepped forward and took me in his arms, shaking with amusement as he hugged me.  I stood on my toes and put my arms around his neck, silencing him with a long, unhurried kiss.  When I stopped for air, I looked into his eyes.

“Should we go to bed and try again?” I asked.

“I’m not sure I’m in the mood anymore.”

“Is that right?  Is there anything I could do to remedy that?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged, “maybe tell me again about this penis that was down your gullet?  What was the word you used?”

“Enormous.” I said.

“Was it?”

“Yes.  Also, thick.  And hard.” I ran the tip of my tongue across his bottom lip. “So very, very hard…”

His eyes narrowed and he nodded, “Yup, that’s done it.”

We lost our towels as he took me by the hand and practically dragged me to the bed.  Picking me up, he tossed me into the middle then jumped on, landing beside me.  He placed his palm flat on my stomach, nuzzling my shoulder on his way to my ear. 

“Jesus, it’s barely been four days, but I missed you.” He whispered, breathing hotly on my neck.  The rawness of his voice made me tingle and the hint, the almost-but-not-quite of his lips on my skin raised goosebumps over my whole body.  “I missed your gorgeous face and the way your eyes sparkle when you’re being ridiculous to make me laugh.  I missed holding you and the warmth of your body when you curl up with me at night.  And I missed the smell and taste of your skin,” his hand moved to my hip, “more than anything, I missed just being next to you, knowing you were right there if I needed you.”

I rolled onto my side, into his arms to receive his lingering, loving kiss.  I’d missed him too but I didn’t want to talk about how difficult it was being apart.  Thinking about the next time he’d be gone caused a lump in my throat and I didn’t want to cry, not in this moment.  It wouldn’t do any good.  I wouldn’t feel any better, he’d feel like it was his fault, and there was no blame to be laid; it was a fact of life for us.  I couldn’t imagine it ever getting any easier but he was home now and rather than dwell on how much it hurt to be separated from him, what I wanted was to let him feel how I loved him.

His hands moved on my back, holding me to him and his tongue was in my mouth.  He still tasted faintly of tea, cigarettes and peppermint and it made me strangely happy that I could tell what he’d been doing by the taste of his mouth.  He brushed his knuckles over my cheek and drew back to look at me.

“Tell me what you want.” He whispered.

“Fireworks and magic, just like always.  I want you.”

“I want you too,” he said, pushing me onto my back and moving on top of me, “but first, fireworks.”

He started at my neck and slowly worked his way down my body with his lips, his tongue and his teeth, licking and sucking, tickling and biting until I was grinding my hips into his, greedy for more contact.  Shifting his weight to the side, he took a nipple into his warm mouth, his hand moving between my legs, fingers easing into my slippery, accepting folds.  He sucked harder and I moaned, my back arching from the bed, his hard length pressed along the inside of my thigh.

“Ben, come here.” I reached for him, “I don’t want to wait.”

He looked up at me, my nipple, shiny and erect, sliding from his lips and he pressed one long finger into me.

“Don’t you?” He asked, his hand moving forward and back. “Is this what you want?”

“No,” I breathed, “I want you inside me.”

“I am inside you.  See?”

A second finger joined the first, his thumb massaging my clitoris and I bucked into his hand, feeling a flood of heat and wet.

“Oh, that was lovely,” he murmured, his rumbly voice seeming to come from far away, “do it again.”

He left a trail of kisses down my stomach and his fingers went deeper as he pressed his tongue to me, getting the response he was after.  I wanted him so badly but I was helpless to do anything but moan and writhe beneath him as he buried his face between my legs.

“Please, oh please…”

My begging only made him redouble his efforts and the heat of his mouth, his tongue swiping back and forth on my clit had me on the brink of release.  I was so close, my pulse pounding in my ears, hands fisted in the bedding beneath me when suddenly, he was on top of me.  He ran his hands down my legs, raising them to wrap around him and he reached down, gliding the head of his cock back and forth, coating himself in my wetness.  I squeezed with my legs, pulling him closer and he held his length in his hand, guiding himself inside me.

“Breathe.” He said.

I tried, staccato gasps catching in my throat as he took me in his arms, letting his weight carry him forward and my body stretched to take him.  He went deep, snapping his hips into me in short, hard bursts and I lifted up to meet him, wanting all of him.  It was so intense, the ache of being filled, the pleasure of him on, and in me; I moaned into his mouth as our tongues met.  The pressure on my pubic bone was nearly unbearable when he changed pace, lifting himself on his elbows to stroke long and slow and I threw my head back with a cry.  

“Oh Ben, yes, keep doing that; I’m almost there.”

He stopped and I opened my eyes to see him smiling sweetly.

“Now?  Or can you wait for me?”

I exhaled slowly, “Hold still for a minute.”

“How still?” He asked.

“Ahh…” I sighed as he moved in a lazy, teasing circle, “more still than that, if you want me to wait.”

“I’m not sure I do.  Maybe I’d rather keep my wits about me so I can watch when you come.”

I was having trouble speaking as he undulated against me, “M-m-maybe you, you…”

I don’t even know what I was trying to say but it didn’t matter because he didn’t make me decide.  He lifted himself enough to get his hand between us, squeezed my clit between his fingers and began to thrust.  His cock slid over the raised, sensitive bud with every powerful stroke and in a matter of seconds I was gone, digging my nails into his biceps as I shuddered and my muscles clenched around him. 

He didn’t wait for me to recover, rearing back onto his knees with me in his arms and settling back until his ass rested on his feet.  I was on his lap, biting his shoulder as I slid down, hungry for every bit of him, for everything he could give me.  He had me by the waist and I took his face in my hands, slipping my tongue into his mouth.  Already moving, driving himself up into me, he moaned and I could hear how close he was getting.  I dropped my legs, my shins pressed to the mattress and went faster, my ass hitting his thighs as I rode him, wanting to give him the same pleasure he’d given me.  His arms wrapped around me, holding tightly, he lifted and pulled me down, hard, onto his cock and he went so deep that I whimpered and threw myself against him.

“Yes my love, yes,” he groaned, “take it all.”

The second orgasm hit me out of nowhere and I fell forward, lips on his throat, crying his name, grinding on him as it washed through me.  His mouth fell open with a deep groan as he came and I felt his release pulsing within me.

Spent, he collapsed onto his back and I fell with him.  I let my head rest on his chest, listening to the thumping of his heart under my sweaty cheek, soft surges of aftershocks rippling through us.  He wove his fingers into my hair and pulled me up to his mouth.

“Magic.” He mumbled against my lips.

“Mmm,” I whispered back, “fireworks too.”

I felt his smile, “Is that what all that noise was?”

“No, that was definitely me.  That was me being completely, utterly and marvellously overwhelmed by you.  It really is the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“I do love knowing I’m the best you’ve ever had.” He said happily.

I folded my arms on his chest and rested my chin on them, “That isn’t what I said.”

He stared at me for a long time. “You came twice.  Are you actually trying to tell me there’s something else I could be doing?”

I grinned at his scandalized expression, “No, there’s nothing I’d want you to change.  What I’m talking about is…it’s a…there’s this whole other aspect that goes beyond the way being with you feels, physically.” I shook my head, “I’m not sure how to explain it.”

He rolled us over, pulling the duvet with him to cover us, “Like the difference between having sex and making love?” He suggested.

My hair was still partly wet, and cold on my back.  Chilled, I pulled the damp strands out from under me and put my arms around Ben for warmth.

“It’s more than that and it’s not necessarily what we’re doing specifically, or where, or how...it happens when we’re being gentle and loving but also when you bend me over the back of the sofa and fuck the living daylights out of me.”

He sniggered, his eyes creasing, radiating a relaxed happiness, “That’s very descriptive, but I’m still not sure what it is you’re talking about.”

“I’m not sure I really understand it, let alone how to explain it.” I was interrupted by a loud grumble. “Was that your stomach?”

“Yeah, I didn’t stop to eat, I was in too big a hurry to get home, but keep going.” He encouraged me.

“There’s a bottle of wine open and I can reheat some chicken for you if you like.”

His stomach answered loudly for him so we got up and, in truth, I was glad for the interruption.  Expressing myself, especially to him, was not usually so difficult and I needed to think, to put my thoughts in order and try to first clarify in my own mind what I wanted him to understand. 

In the kitchen, he sat at the table sipping wine, watching me get a plate of food ready for him and when it was hot, we settled in the living room - Ben in the corner of the sofa with his plate in one hand and a fork in the other and I, cross-legged, facing him.  Buying myself some time to figure out what it was I’d been trying to tell him, I was going to let him eat in peace.  It didn’t work though; he talked non-stop, filling me in on how the shoot went over the weekend and he was, as always, so excited talking about his work that I didn’t mind at all.  He took his last bite and his eyes closed as he chewed happily.

“I love potatoes,” he sighed, “I’m going to miss them so much when I have to lose all this weight.”

“And I’m going to miss that lovely weight.” I grinned, tracing the raised veins that mapped his forearm, “Filming in Prague isn’t going to make it any easier.  Have you ever had Czech potato pancakes?”

“Oh god, don’t.  I don’t want to know.” He covered his ears, almost poking his eye out with the fork still in his hand.

“Crispy, crunchy, fried…”

“Stop!  Let’s talk about something less tempting.” He swapped his empty plate for his wine glass, “What were you saying about sex and how you find me irresistible?”

“I do, you know.  I really do, but I was trying to explain what it is about you, about us together that’s so different from anything I’ve ever known.  Let me start over.  The other night, when we were at Brantley?  After the restaurant, when we got upstairs, why did you come so quickly?”

He started to answer but I leaned over and put my finger to his lips, quieting him with a smile, “It was all of it - the atmosphere, the psychology, the build up from what had come before - I get it, I felt it too or I never would have had an orgasm in the fucking restaurant.”

He had the grace to try and look embarrassed on my behalf, but I wasn’t buying it.  I knew he was proud of himself, for the trust I had in him, for the way I had responded to him, for every second of it.

“What I’m trying to say is, part of it is purely physical,” I continued, “like how beautiful you are to me and what that does to me.  What isn’t physical is knowing that you get as worked up as you do because of the way I react to you.  I feel that too, and it has nothing to do with what the eyes can see.  That’s all about our connection, about how satisfying, how intoxicating it is to know that you have that kind of an effect on the person you love.”

I let my fingers drift from his mouth, down his throat and I found the words I’d been searching for.  They tumbled from me, gaining momentum like a snowball on a hill.

“When I touch you and you get hard, when you can’t control the sounds you’re making, when you sink your hands into my hair and it _hurts_ but you can’t help it – that’s what I’m talking about.  You asked me once why it seems like I’m always ready for you and that’s why.  I _know_ those things are going to happen and the excitement of knowing, the anticipation of feeling that way…” I exhaled with a shiver, “Every minute of every day is build up for me and that’s because I trust you.  I’m diving in headlong, free falling with the knowledge, with the absolute conviction, that you’ll catch me.  Which is bonkers if you stop to think how short a time we’ve been together.” I laughed, exhilarated with the realization, “We’re caught in this crazy circuit where we feed off each other, but it _works_.  I’m free to want what I want, without fear and you, you can ask me for anything and I’ll give it.” I grabbed his hand and held tight, “You ask me to jump and you know I will because I know, we both know, you will break my fall.”

He held my chin in his hand and kissed me, hard, acknowledging that he felt what I did and I returned that kiss, pushing my tongue against his and running my fingers down the cords of muscle in his throat.  We pulled apart, staring into each other’s eyes and I watched him as he processed what I’d said before he spoke.

“And it truly doesn’t matter to you what we’re doing?  Because I find it a delightful challenge to keep you on your toes but, I have wondered if the thrill of discovery, of exploring new things is what keeps that fire burning so brightly for you.”

“It truly doesn’t matter, I love it all.  Sweet and gentle or bent over the furniture, it makes no difference to me.  I don’t always need all the bells and whistles, what I need, is you.”

He hesitated, swallowed and asked, “But if you already know what’s going to happen and what it’s going to feel like, you won’t get bored?  You don’t think you’d find it dull if it’s just ‘plain sex’?  When I come to you and you see only me…” 

He trailed off and I immediately shook my head, the concern in his eyes evidence that he was asking something much deeper than his words alone conveyed.

“What a question.  No, my love, not ever.  No matter who you are when you come to me, Ben or Benedict, tender or demanding or any combination of those, they’re all you and that’s what keeps my fire burning.  As for getting bored, would you?”

“Good god, no.  How on earth could I be bored?  You’re, I mean, you’re…” he struggled to make himself clear, “you’re you.”  He said decisively, as though that explained everything.

“Well, exactly.  That’s exactly what I was trying to make you see.  So why would you even wonder?  Did we not talk about this before, after the no-sex fiasco?”

“Yes, but even after the no-sex fiasco…I have questioned if playing games to keep things fresh so early in our relationship isn’t somehow setting unrealistic expectations.  For both of us.”

That gave me pause but only for a moment and I dismissed it firmly.

“No, it’s not.  Do you know why?”

I sensed in addressing this question I wasn’t just answering him, but responding to some hidden insecurity in myself as well.  I took a deep breath.

“First of all, the things we do that aren’t just ‘plain sex’ were never about keeping it fresh, not from my perspective.  As we got to know each other, I let myself ask for things, allow things, that I never knew I wanted before.  The trust I have in you, my absolute faith that you’ll take care of me, has unlocked something in me and not just sexually, but even deeper than that.  Something I would never have admitted to anyone other than you.  Vulnerability.  Letting you see that side of me, knowing that you’d never take advantage of it or use it against me has made me stronger and more confident than I ever was before I met you.”

Taking my hand, he raised it to his lips, “I don’t take that lightly; it means everything to me.”

“I know.  That’s why I can let myself be completely free with you.” I put my other hand on his leg and squeezed, “And it’s also why I recognize that same vulnerability in you.  I know you give yourself to me in a way that’s different from anyone before me.” 

He placed his hand on top of mine and my heart leapt at his sweet, shy smile. 

“Ben, you let me see the versions of you that are so much more than what’s in plain sight.  You’re bold and confident, guileless and insecure, loving, cautious, protective, dangerous…I discover so many yous and each one makes me fall harder, more intensely and passionately in love.  That’s what makes this so overwhelming.  Good overwhelming, not ‘oh god make it stop’ overwhelming.” I assured him, and we grinned at each other, “The more of yourself you reveal, the more I want to know.  It’s the polar opposite of becoming jaded because all your layers and shades and shadows make up this beautiful kaleidoscope that is you, my Ben.”

He reached for me and I could see his jaw working, his eyes shiny.  I moved onto his lap, tucking my nose into the crook of his neck, “My love, we don’t have to come up with a new scenario every other time we have sex.  You are my magic, my fireworks.  Plain old sex, plain old you,” I smiled and lightly pressed my lips to the pulse in his throat, “will always enough for me.  I don’t need role playing or games, they’re just the delicious icing on an already very sexy cake.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he chuckled and he kissed my forehead, “Is that so?”

“It is.  That being said,” I sat up and looked him in the eye, “when you go to the trouble of buying me nipple clamps or spending hours researching the safe way to spank me, or taking what I say when I’m trying to get you off and recognizing that you can flip it on its head and use it on me, what you’re really doing is the one simplest and most perfect thing.”

I brushed my lips over his mouth and rested my forehead on his, speaking slowly and quietly, “Intuitively, you do the most erotic thing you can do: you listen to me.  You listen to what I say but more importantly, to the things I don’t; you hear the things I sometimes don’t even know I’m asking for.  And, as if that weren’t enough, you don’t do it for yourself, you do it for me, because you care so very much.  For me, that’s the ultimate aphrodisiac.  Lovely man, how could I ever be bored by you?”

He took a deep breath and we kissed again, his big hands stroking my back, pulling me to him, holding me close.

“I love you so fucking much.” His low, silky voice resonated against my body, “To think I once said you weren’t very good at being romantic.” 

“I’m not.  But I am good at figuring out what makes me tick and since that’s you, I thought you should know.” 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to give a shout out to my Beta reader, Kat. What a gift it is to have a friend with such a sharp, perceptive eye, as well as a great sense of humour.  
> Thank you.


	36. A Rose By Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Kai are continuing to experiment with restraint and domination and it doesn't always go exactly to plan.  
> As ever, and as tagged, remember there is explicit consent on her part, but if 'force play' is a trigger, please be aware, this might not be the chapter for you. 
> 
> That being said, it's still them. Still stupid in love, still ridiculous, still making each other laugh. There's just this other thing they can't quite get out of their systems...

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 36 – A Rose, By Any Other Name

 

Awakening to soft kisses on the nape of my neck, I stretched and started to turn over, only to feel Ben’s arm tighten around my waist, stopping me.

His voice was sleep-deep and hoarse, “Careful love.”

Opening my eyes, I discovered we’d fallen asleep on the couch and if I had rolled over, I’d likely have ended up on the floor.  I yawned, pushing up onto one elbow and glanced at the window, still dark.

“What time is it?”

He looked at his watch, “Half three,” he patted me on the bum, “sit up.”

I did and he threw his legs over the side of the sofa, sitting beside me.  Yawning again, I tipped sideways, landing against his shoulder.  He flinched and pulled away, making a face and flexing his hand.

“Pins and needles,” he apologized. “You were lying on my arm.”

“Is that what woke you?”

Looking at me out of the corner of his eye, he grinned, “No...”

“Oh Christ, was I snoring?”

“No, talking.”

“Since when do I talk in my sleep?”

“You do mumble occasionally, but tonight there were definite words.  You were telling Charlie off.  Something about serving iced lollies at the wedding?”

I giggled, “Great, now it’s even invading my sleep.  This wedding can’t happen soon enough.”

“I know it’s not what you meant, but it can’t happen soon enough for me either.” He kissed my cheek, “Let’s go to bed.”

“’kay.” I agreed.

He stood, offering me his hand.  I looked at it, then up at his adorably sleep rumpled face.

“Carry me.”

“Lazybones.” He crooked a finger at me, “Come on then, at least meet me halfway.”

I sighed dramatically, rising to my feet but before I was completely up, he bent and hoisted me in a fireman’s carry.  Holding me by the legs, he did a circuit around the flat, shutting off lights and checking the door was locked.  When he got to the stairs, I gave his bum a sharp slap to hurry him up.

“Watch it,” he warned, “I’ll make you walk if you get too demanding.”

“You will not,” I countered, smacking his butt with each step he took, “you like it when I’m demanding.”

Beside the bed, he set me on my feet and pressed his lips to mine, “I do actually.  It makes for a nice change of pace.”

He headed for the bathroom and I pulled my t-shirt over my head, pushed my pyjama pants down and kicking them away, crawled into bed.  He came out to stand in the doorway, toothbrush in his mouth.

“Aren’t you going to brush your teeth?”

“No, I’m too tired.  Can you do it for me?  And wash my face while you’re in there too.”

Snorting, he clapped his hand over his mouth and made for the sink.  I heard him spit and rinse and he was still grinning when he came back into the bedroom.

“You very nearly made toothpaste come out my nose.”

“I’m sure it would have been very refreshing.” I grinned up at him.

When he climbed in with me, I cuddled up to him, enjoying the contrast of the cool sheets and his warm body.  He wriggled around, adjusting his pillow and I draped my arm over his waist.  He exhaled, settled, and I turned my head, finding his nipple with my mouth.  Running my tongue around his areola, I felt the little nub begin to rise and closed my teeth on it, lightly at first, then a little harder until his muscles clenched and he grunted.  I eased off, sucking until his tension eased.  Moving up to lay my head on his shoulder, I could smell his clean toothpaste breath; his fingers stroked my throat and he caught my chin, tilting my head up so he could kiss me. 

“Can I take you out this week?  Maybe go dancing like we’d talked about?” He asked.

“Yes.  How about tomorrow?  I’ve taken Thursday off to get some wedding things done and I don’t have to meet Leah and Charlie until lunchtime so I can sleep in.”

“I think I can do tomorrow; remind me to check my schedule in the morning.”

“’kay.  Turn the light out.”

He stretched for the lamp, “Good night, love of my life.”

“Good night Ben.”

I rolled over, pulling him with me and he tucked his face into my neck.  Lifting his hand to my mouth, I pressed my lips to his palm, then kissed each of his fingertips, one at a time.  When I let go, he ran his hand down my side where it came to rest on my bum.  He gave a little squeeze and gripped my hip, drawing me back and I leaned into him, his body warm and solid behind me.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

He sighed, “About going dancing?”

“No,” I said, turning my head so our noses were touching, “about going to sleep.  Turn the light back on so I can see you.”

“How am I supposed to go to sleep with the light on and you staring at me?”

I stage whispered, “You won’t be asleep either.”

“Kai, I’m tired.  And I have to work in the morning.”

“I know.  Turn the light on.”

“And so do you.”

“I know.  Turn the light on.”

“You had better make this worth my while, or I shall be terribly annoyed.” He grumbled.

He moved to flick the light switch and when he turned back, I was facing him.

“You sounded just like Hugh Grant then.  All, upper class public school twit.”

“Did I?  How terribly unfortunate.”

Scrunching my nose, I grinned, “Cut it out.” And opening my arms, I continued, “Come here.”

I held him to me with my knee over his legs, my calf against his thighs.  He raised himself up on his elbow, caressing my cheek as we kissed; slow, deep, and so intense I felt it all the way to my toes.  His hand went to my breast, taking its weight in his palm as he thumbed the nipple.  Pushing back from me, he lowered his head to pull the firm bud into his mouth, held it in his front teeth as he sucked and I dug my fingers into his hair.

Smiling, his lips curved around my nipple, he asked, “Like that, do you?”

He’d surprised me and I burst out laughing, “Yes.  Do it again.”

Sucking harder, he closed his teeth and I gasped at the sensation, the little pang of pain behind the pleasure.  Holding tight, he pulled the nipple up until I let out a whimper and he released, licked, his tongue rasping at my aroused flesh and I made a softer sound of encouragement, tightening my grip on him with my leg.

Looking into my eyes, he moved his hand over my body, across my stomach and gently pressed into my crease.  I could feel his erection rising against my hip, my arousal having the same effect on him.  With one finger slowly circling my clitoris, he held eye contact, gauging my response, my readiness.  I let it go on until his finger moved back, pushing into me once, then a second time and I reached down, taking his hand in mine.  He stopped, waiting for a request or a demand and I turned his hand over, pushing it against his groin.  His eyebrows went up, questioning.

“Make yourself hard for me.” I whispered.

He wrapped his long fingers around his length.  My breathing sped up in time with his as his hand moved repeatedly up and down his swelling cock and I watched him roll the flat of his thumb across the reddened head.  I licked my lips, imagining how he would feel against them, hot and smooth, the little drop of liquid oozing from the tip wetting them and the hint of salt I’d be able to taste when he throbbed in my mouth.

“Jesus.” He sighed as I bent and sucked at his nipple, flicking with the pointed tip of my tongue.

When I looked up at him, he tried to smile but when I placed my hand on top of his and squeezed, tightening his grip, his face contorted.

“Wh-what about you?” He grunted.

I didn’t answer right away, looking down and watching him stroke himself, getting off on the sight of it, fascinated by the way his huge cock made even his hand look smaller by comparison.  I touched my finger to the head, smearing it in the moisture I found there and raised it to my mouth.  He stared into my eyes as I licked it.

“Would you like me to touch myself?”

He nodded and his gaze tracked the movement of my hand as I reached between my legs.  Pressing my finger into my cleft, over my hard, sensitive clit, I bit my lip.

“Open your legs,” he said, breathy and ragged, “I want to see.”

Still on my side, I spread my legs and said, “Come closer, so I can feel your hand on mine.”

His throat worked as he swallowed and he lifted up, moving to lie between my thighs, his weight pressing my leg into the mattress.  I placed my other foot flat, raising one knee to open myself to his gaze.

“Is this O.K?  I’m not too heavy?”

I smiled, shaking my head, “No, you’re exactly where I want you.”

I pushed between my swollen labia and shuddered at the sensation of his hand moving up his shaft, his knuckles bumping mine, gently nudging my finger deeper.  It was hard to say exactly why it excited me to watch him pleasure himself, but it definitely did, my wetness and goosebumps evidence enough of that.  There was also an element of anticipation to not touching him yet, to keeping him from touching me for as long as possible, to seeing which of us could hold out longer.  I looked up from his stroking, twisting hand, his face a better indication of his level of arousal since he could get hard so quickly.  His mouth had fallen open and the tip of his tongue was pressed against his teeth.  As his eyes watched my fingers rubbing my wet pussy, his tongue would move as though it was on my flesh and, visualizing it, my breath hitched in my throat, drawing his attention to my face.  He bent forward, until I felt his lips brush my ear and his voice was deep and raw with lust.

“Do you do this when I’m not here?  Touch yourself?”

“Sometimes.  Not as often as I used to.” I smiled, remembering, “When you left for the States after we first met,” I moaned as his hand brushed mine again, “and I couldn’t stop thinking about you...”

He bit at my neck and pushed his cock against my hand, rubbing himself on my skin, “I thought about you too, every minute of every day.  I’d get into bed at night and close my eyes, trying to recall every detail of how you felt.”

I brought my finger up to his mouth, traced his soft lips and he licked the taste of me from them.  My heart fluttered at the sweetness of his admission and the delicate touch of his tongue.  I was starting to have trouble concentrating but I kept going, because he wanted to hear it.

“We’d only slept together a few times but I’d never known anything like it, the way it felt being with you.  Every time you’d call me, I’d lie there, letting the sound of your voice sink into my bones and as soon as we’d hang up, I’d slide my hand into my pants and think about the next time we’d be together.”

He groaned and pushed his hips forward, trying to get nearer to me, “So did I.  It was never as good as the real thing, was it?”

“Never even came close.” I agreed.

He took my hand, folding my fingers in his, around his girth, “Hold me.  Put me inside you.”

I held him to me and my muscles clenched when he moaned at the lewd, slick sound of the head of his cock rubbing back and forth on my clit.  I was trembling, so aroused that I couldn’t wait any longer and I tilted my hips toward him, pushing his shaft down and guiding him to my entrance.

“Don’t let go.” He whispered.

“I won’t.  I love the way you feel in my hand.”

”Kai,” he groaned, slipping inside me, “oh my love, my beautiful girl…”

My hand slid down his cock to his groin, keeping him from entering me completely.  As much as I wanted more of him, all of him, the sensation of gripping him as he drew back, hard, hot and wet in my palm, feeling him shove forward and denying him full penetration was shockingly erotic.  I was sure this wasn’t what he’d envisioned when he’d told me to hold him, but as he pulled out and arched forward again and again, coming up against my hand, once stimulating, now a barrier, his frustrated growls were going straight to my core and driving me wild.  There was the physical gratification each time he tried to get inside me, of being entered over and over but even more exciting was the growing feeling of power I had when he pushed, straining against my hand, attempting to break through my grip and finally, relenting and wrenching his hips back to try again.   My understanding of why he enjoyed making me wait and why he’d hold off, touching, licking, giving me everything but what I asked for until I begged for it, had never been clearer; taking control could be every bit as erotic as the surrendering of it.  I looked up at him, flushed and sweaty, his brows knitted in a frown and I smiled.  It wasn’t a very nice smile.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

He tried again, his hair falling forward into his eyes and he ground his groin into my hand.  I winced, tightening my grip and squeezed until he gasped and jerked backward.

“That hurt.” He growled.

“Did it?”

“What are you playing at?”

“I’m doing what you asked,” I feigned innocence, “holding you in my hand.”

“This isn’t what I meant at all and you know it.” And cautiously, experimentally, he rolled his hips into me. 

I shivered when he breached me, relaxed my fingers for a moment, then grasped him firmly, denying him once more.  He scowled, his eyes glinting dangerously and my heart pounded in my throat.  I nearly let go right then, but rather than putting me off, his expression fueled my craving. 

When he spoke, his tone all hard edges and domination, it only stoked the fire, “I’m not playing anymore Kai.  Stop blocking me.”

I didn’t even hesitate.

“Make me.” I hissed.

That caught him off guard and he was momentarily startled.

“What?”

“Make me.” Jutting my chin forward insolently, I dared him, “If you want me so badly, take me.”

He grabbed my free hand, pinned it above my head and snarled, “I do love a challenge.”

Twisting my wrist against his thumb, the weak point in his grip, I yanked my hand free, pressed my palm flat to his chest and began to push him away.  I don’t think he’d truly had time to process what I was asking for, it was pure instinct that made him push back at me, my elbow nearly bending when his mass came down on my hand.  I only had one hand free, the other still wrapped around his length, keeping him from pushing more deeply inside me so I eased up slightly, his weight settling on his arms, letting him think he was winning, then I let go of his cock and using both hands, gave an almighty shove to the side and he flew off me. 

I flipped over to put some space between us but just as quickly, he seized me around the waist, pulling me back.  I tried to roll away but his hands were huge and his grasp much stronger than mine.  I pulled doggedly at his fingers, trying to break free and I could hear his breath heaving as he struggled to regain control over me.  I kicked back and he grunted, swearing as I made contact with his leg, and none too gently. 

The pain made him angry, and the anger made him determined.

He let go of my waist, catching my flailing legs by the ankles and he pinned them between his knees, trapping me.  His hand sank into my hair and my nipples hardened as he pulled, my back bending as he drew my ear to his lips.  

“I’m warning you Kai, you had better be sure this is what you want because if you hurt me like that again, you’re going to regret it.”

Exhaling, the tension left my body and his grip on my hair lessened, letting me turn to face him.  I let my eyes soften, staring at his mouth.  He did exactly what I’d expected, leaning forward, letting me press my tongue between his lips, accepting what I was sure he thought was compliance.  His whole frame relaxed and, sliding my legs free of his, I bit his lip.  He jumped, and by the time he dove, reaching for me, I was halfway across the bed, sitting up and propelling myself quickly backward, using my feet.  I thought I’d been fast enough but with a roar, he launched himself onto me, pushing me flat and the momentum of his tackle carried us across the sheets.  We froze, hanging head-first off the mattress, both of us winded from our exertions, the strength of our combined breathing inching us over the side. 

“Get off.  We’re going to fall.” I dug my fingers into his biceps, looking for an anchor.

“Fat fucking chance.  If I let go you’ll start kicking again.”

We’d slid far enough that my hair was dangling on the floor and with every breath, we got closer to falling.  Ben suddenly wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug and holding me close, _he flipped sideways_ , off the bed, taking us both to the floor and absorbing the impact with his body to protect me.  I raised my head; he’d grunted loudly when we landed and he wasn’t moving.  My pulse raced with fear for him. 

“Jesus Christ, are you alright?”

He moaned weakly, his arms falling to his sides and I scrambled off him, touching my fingers to his cheek.

“Ben, talk to me.  Are you hurt?”

His hand reached for mine, his eyes fluttering open, focusing.  I’d been holding my breath and let it out, relieved.  His grip tightened and in one motion, he sat up and yanked me, off balance, across his body and onto the floor.  He was on me, pressing my cheek into the rug beside the bed, his forearm across the nape of my neck and his other hand vise-like on my wrist with my arm twisted behind my back.  I couldn’t move.

“You fucking, fucking liar!” I howled, livid that he’d used my concern against me. “I thought you’d broken something.”

“Actor, not liar.  It’s hardly my fault if you can’t tell the difference.” His icy voice was right in my ear, “Face it Kai, you’ve lost.  I’m stronger than you are and there’s nothing you can do about it.   Now be a good girl and hold still because if you try to get away again, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

He bent, sharp teeth nipping at my neck and his knees determinedly working my legs apart.  I kept fighting, struggling to get free, but the harder I fought, the more forcefully he held me down.  The more strength he used, the more intoxicating it was for me.  He was holding my legs open with his knees and he pushed himself up, his arm leaving my neck to drag my other hand to the small of my back, pinning them together in one big paw. 

The only sound in the room was his breathing, raspy and laboured.  I heard him swallow and he still hadn’t moved.  I twisted my head around to check on him and his face was a complicated mix of expressions - excitement, anticipation, and clearly, doubt.  I looked him straight in the eye and he stared back at me, reading my face as I’d read his.  His expression changed, eyes narrowing, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.  His grip on my wrists tightened and, getting a hand between my legs, he jammed two fingers inside me.

“You’ve got a nerve, calling me a liar.” He said sharply, “I can feel how much you want me.  Say it.”

“No.”

“Tell me you want…my…cock.” He snarled through gritted teeth.

He ground his fingers into me.  My back arched and I couldn’t hold it in, letting loose a cry as my muscles tightened, seeking to draw him further inside me.

“Go to hell.” I spat, biting back another moan.

His fingers slid easily in my wetness as jerked back and shoved them into me again.  I yelped and squirmed at the pressure but he just spread his knees, pushing my legs wider apart.

“Keep fighting it if you want to, but it won’t make the slightest bit of difference.  I’m going to have you anyway.”

The arrogance in his voice was so different from anything I’d ever heard from him before and it was such a cliché that it probably shouldn’t have been such a turn on, but I couldn’t help it.  It was.  I did want him, as badly as he was saying I did but shockingly, I still hadn’t reached my limit.  I wasn’t going to stop fighting yet.  I could feel how deeply he desired me but he was holding back - and what I needed was for him lose control, overpower me, and take what he wanted.

“You wouldn’t force me.  Not in a million years.  You don’t have it in you,” I taunted, “ _Prep boy_.”

A third finger was rammed inside me and he was in all the way to his palm.  I gasped, my hips coming off the floor, aching for him as he twisted his wrist, drilling his fingers into me.

“It’s hardly force when you’re so desperate for it that you’re pushing your pussy into my hand.”  He pulled his fingers from me and wrapped them, slick and wet, around the back of my neck, “And now I’m tired of asking so nicely.  Don’t fucking move.  You’re going to lie there and take my cock.”

Stunned by his language, distracted by his complete embodiment of the role I’d seduced him into, I didn’t even register when he shifted his weight, so I was unprepared for his first vicious thrust.  I shrieked as he drove himself into me, his girth pressing me open.  Pushing my hands down on the small of my back, he retreated, and lunged forward again, his free hand moving to my side, fingers digging painfully into my hip bone as he lifted me up so he could go deeper yet, grinding his groin against my tender flesh.  I began to shake, overwhelmed, so aroused I couldn’t form words, could barely get a breath as I called out with the force of every stroke.  Letting go of my hands, he fell forward, heavy on my back, groaning hotly in my ear.  His arms came up and around me and crossed under my head as, briefly, he showed a trace of tenderness.  I laid my cheek on his forearm as he held on to me with all his strength before sinking his teeth into my shoulder and I unraveled.

My inner walls were in spasm, straining around his hardness as I started to orgasm.  It was no gentle wave of release, not this time.  As I wailed under the onslaught of his savage pounding, it crackled through my veins, every nerve ending on fire and I sobbed with relief as it finally ebbed, my whole body thrumming, euphoric, as he came, a long, loud growl bursting from his throat.

We lay in a heap on the floor, gasping for air and I shuddered, whining as an aftershock rippled through my abdomen.  Without a word, Ben rolled to the side and gathered me into his arms.  Sitting with his back to the bed, he brought me onto his lap and reached for the duvet, dragging it down to put around us.  My head rested on his shoulder as he rocked us slowly from side to side.  I lost track of time as we sat, seeking shelter in each other’s arms, waiting for the fizz of adrenaline to subside. 

I was speechless.  Spent.  Burned to the ground with satisfaction.  I had no idea what had gotten into me and could only imagine what was going on in Ben’s mind. 

His fingers were cool and gentle on my cheek when he finally brought my face to his, brought his lips to mine, whisper-soft and held me there as we each breathed the other in. 

When the silence was broken, it was with one tentative question, “Kai?”

I raised my hands to his face, stroking his cheekbones with my thumbs and looked deep into his eyes, “Yes.  It was perfect.  Thank you, my love.” I kissed him again.

In the low light, he looked back at me, blinking as though trying to clear his head and his eyes looked shiny.

“Why?” He asked quietly, “Tell me why would you want that.”

“I love giving up control to you.”

God, how I had loved it.

“This wasn’t like that.  No matter what was said in the heat of the moment, every other time there’s been some sort of negotiation, a give and take.  There were rules and I’ve always had a sense of how far was far enough.  Just now, I felt like there was no far enough.”

“I know it was…more,” I said, not entirely sure how else to express it, “but was it really so different from the other times I’ve let you dominate me?”

He frowned, “Yes, it was.  There’s never been any suggestion before that you were unwilling, not once.”

I looked intently at his worried face, “But I wasn’t.  I was pretending.  If you’d really believed I was unwilling, you wouldn’t have continued.  I know that and so do you.”

“That’s not the point.” He argued, emphasis on the final word.

I sat up and placed my hands on his shoulders, massaging the tension from his muscles.  He was frustrated that I wasn’t getting what he was telling me.  I had a sudden feeling of disconnect.  I’d thought we had been in sync, but maybe I’d made a mistake.

“I’m listening.  Explain it to me.”

He stared at me, the determination behind his look making me pay close attention, “You didn’t call me Benedict.  That’s important, it’s like…like our codeword so I know you’re with me.  Without it, I have to guess and when we’re being that physical, when there’s a chance I could get it wrong, I don’t want to be left fucking guessing.  It scares me.”

Appalled with myself for putting him in that position, for making such a basic error, I hugged him, softly running my nails back and forth on his neck, along his hairline.

“Ben, I’m sorry.  I was so far beyond thinking and I didn’t realize.”

He was still tense.  I could feel the energy resonating within him so I asked, “There’s something else?”

“The way you fought me, sometimes it seemed a bit too real.  And we’ve never used the word ‘force’ before.  You actually said ‘no’ at one point.”

“I did?  I don’t remember that but, you had to know it was role-playing.”

“Of course it was,” he said sullenly, “if it wasn’t, you’d have used our safe word.”

I nodded, “Definitely…so why are you angry?  What am I missing?”

“I’m not angry, I’m confused.  I know you’re strong and we’ve taken it in turns, physically overpowering each other but there was always an understanding that it was a game, foreplay.  This wasn’t like that.  For Christ’s sake Kai!  I knew, once I got you face down on the floor that I had you, there was no way you could get away.  I put my goddamned arm across the back of your neck and I watched you struggle.”

I remained silent, needing to hear him express what had happened from his perspective.

His eyes drifted from mine, unfocused, “I was holding you down, pushing your legs apart while you fought me and what’s worse, I was fucking smiling.  I got off on it.” He sneered, “I enjoyed it.”

“You were supposed to.”  

“Don’t be flippant.” He barked.

I hated it when he used that word, intimating I wasn’t taking him seriously but I took a breath before responding.  There was nothing to be gained by answering anger with anger, especially right now, after what we’d just experienced.  

I put my hand on his chin, asking him to look at me, “I am absolutely not being flippant.  I’m telling you that, while this may have been more extreme than anything we’ve done before, the basic premise, the rules remained the same.  I didn’t want you to stop, or I would have told you to.  I wanted you to push me further.  To be harder with me.  To hold me down and make me do what you wanted.  If you hadn’t been getting off on it - and Ben, this is the ultimate truth - I wouldn’t have either.  I can tell if you like something or not, I can feel it, and I knew you were just as turned on as I was and that’s what I wanted most of all.  I love to feel the strength of your need for me.  Understand?”

He nodded but he was still looking down, away from my eyes and all at once, I got it.

“You did not force me.  You wouldn’t.  You couldn’t.  It wasn’t real and being aroused by pretending doesn’t make you a bad person.  It was just like when you’re being Benedict for me.  You can be cold and demanding and sometimes you hurt me, but that doesn’t change who you really are.  Whatever happens in our bedroom, when it’s over, you’re still Ben.  My Ben.  Who does what he does, for me.”

I wasn’t sure whether he was more relieved by my words or by the fact that he hadn’t had to find the words himself to explain, but we both let out a sigh at the same time, easing off a little more of the strain.  He stood, bringing me to my feet and I put my arms around his neck and drew him to me for a long, gentle kiss.

He sighed again, “I was thrown by how far it went.  Far beyond anywhere we’ve gone before.”

“I shouldn’t have sprung it on you without warning.  Neither of us was prepared for how intense it got and I don’t want us to ever regret anything we do together.”

Running my hands slowly up and down the long muscles of his back I could tell his anxiety had abated but not enough to completely assure me of his well-being.

“I am sorry Ben.  If I come up with a brilliant idea in the middle of foreplay again, I’ll either ask you first or put it on the back burner for another time, O.K?”

He laughed quietly, “Maybe not every time but I do think there are some circumstances where we could stand to lose a little spontaneity in favour of sanity.”  He kissed my forehead, “No one has ever understood me as well as you do.”

“I understand you the way I do because you’re still willing to talk to me, even after I’ve driven you to question your own decency.”

I picked up the duvet and threw it back on the bed.  We crawled between the sheets.  Lights off, we settled, facing each other, arms and legs entwined so we could be as close as possible.  I was drifting, nearly asleep when he spoke again and I smiled in the darkness.  It was one of his habits I could easily predict, the way he couldn’t let go of an thought until he’d reached a conclusion that satisfied him, even if it was four o’clock in the morning.

“I know I said I was thrown, but I do think I’d have stopped if I’d truly believed you weren’t willing.”

I hugged him a little tighter, “There’s no question in my mind.  I know it for certain.  Safe word or not, if deep down you’d felt I was frightened or that you were misinterpreting my signals, you would have ended it or at least stopped to ask.”

“I think that’s what really scared me.  Whether my own positive response might be masking your negative one.  I’m not sure I would have kept going if you hadn’t made that sound.” ~~~~

“What sound?  A moan or something?”

There was a soft huff of amusement and I could hear him smiling as he spoke, “No.  Not at that point anyway.” He pulled himself up onto his elbow so he was leaning over me, and his fingers lightly traced a line from my throat to my breast bone, “There’s one particular sound I only hear when we make love.  It’s this amazing, soft, breathy sigh that makes me want to give you the world; it’s your ‘I love you’ sigh.  To use the phrase you said earlier, it sinks into my bones and when I’m away from you, it’s the sound I miss the most.”

I wouldn’t have described what we’d done tonight as making love, so I clarified, “I made that sound tonight?”

“Oh good lord, no.  No, that’s only one of the ways you let me know what I’m doing is right.” He pressed his weight onto me, kissing across my cheek to my ear, to whisper, “There’s another that gets me in a whole different way.  I think of it as your ‘I fucking love that’ noise.  That one happens when we’re having sex and you’re right on the brink of orgasm.  It’s lower pitched, straight from your gut,” he put his hand on that spot, “and it’s so raw, so erotic, I could almost come myself when you do it.  I heard it the first time we slept together and for days afterward,” he chuckled again, “it would pop into my head and I’d find myself getting hard at the most inopportune times, like in the queue at Customs in New Orleans.”

Picturing his discomfort, I laughed with him but his good humour couldn’t completely offset my appreciation at how much attention he paid to my sexual response.  That we focused on every little detail, using it to our advantage because we both had the same goal of pleasing the other may have begun with our discovery that sexually, we were perfectly matched, but to my amazement and eternal gratitude, we had been able to translate that connection from the physical to the emotional and mental aspects of our relationship.  That was why, even when one of us made a rare misstep such as I had tonight – not checking that he would be comfortable with what I was asking for - we could talk about it, come back from it and still be so certain of each other. ~~~~

Ben rubbed his nose against mine, “Still with me?”

I grinned in the darkness, “Oops.  Yes, sorry but my mind drifted a bit there.  I can’t help but think how fucking lucky we are.  What a one in a million chance it was that we found each other.  I simply can’t believe I’d ever have this, what I have with you, that I could ever feel this way, about any other person in the world.”

“You wouldn’t.  I wouldn’t.” He kissed me softly, “Now do shut up and let me finish, alright?”

“By all means,” I agreed, “don’t let my declaration of complete and total devotion stop you.”

“Look, I’m trying to explain why I kept going tonight, even though a part of me thought I was close to crossing a line.  You make any number of gorgeous sounds, but there’s one I don’t hear as often as the others because it only ever occurs in the most extreme of circumstances.  When I hear it, I know you’re completely out of your cerebral self.  You know how you’ve described pushing me until I’m no longer thinking or rational?”

“Uh-huh.  Lizard brain.”

“Right.  No higher thought processes, operating on pure impulse.  When we take each other there, that’s when I worry I’m most in danger of hurting you, accidentally I mean, not by playing a game but by losing control.  But when you make that sound, when you whimper in pain but in the background I can hear the utter, undeniable satisfaction behind it,” he imitated what he’d heard and my skin prickled, goosebumps rising, “I couldn’t stop if I had a gun to my head.  And it’s the strangest thing Kai, because it splits me right down the middle.  Half of me aches to hold you in my arms and comfort you, to make the pain stop, but the other half is compelled to push _just a little further_ , to see what happens when I take you there with me.”

“Jesus…”

“Yes.  That’s why, as startled as I was by my own reaction to the whole situation, I didn’t end it.  First, you gave me that look over your shoulder,” he took a sharp breath, remembering. “Then I pushed into you and you cried out like that and I had to keep going.  It was like an electrical shock, your voice, spurring me on.  In that moment, I knew that you wanted exactly what I was giving you _._ You were still struggling, trying to get out of my grasp, but your voice told the truth.  You see?”

“That’s amazing.  I had no clue.”

“That I can interpret your sex sounds with such accuracy?”

“No, that doesn’t surprise me at all because I know yours too.  I know exactly what you mean by an, ‘I love you’ sigh.  And you still sometimes hum when I kiss you a certain way.  You also have a certain groan that tells me, ‘that hurt but I liked it’ and, my favourite, the moan that says, ‘oh fuck, I’m going to come don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstoppleasedon’tstop’.”

He chuckled and moved over, lying beside me, sharing my pillow, “So what didn’t you have a clue about?”

I smiled, absolutely tickled by this new discovery, “That Mr. Benedict ‘jaguar in a cello’ Cumberbatch has a thing for my voice.”

“Oh, my love, yes.  Without a doubt.” He rested his chin on my shoulder, “When you leave me a note or send a text, I hear your voice in my mind when I read it.  When I’m out of town and we talk on the phone, I close my eyes and it feels like I’m with you.  I’ve listened to the recordings of you singing so often, they’re all at the top of my playlists.  Your voice makes me relax when I’m stressed, helps me fall asleep when I miss you.  Your voice makes me feel loved.”

I rolled over and sank my fingers into his hair, holding him as I slipped my tongue into his mouth.  He reached down and grabbed my bum with both hands.

“For the record,” he mumbled around my tongue, “your voice also makes me want to shag you something rotten.”

I busted out laughing and said, “For the record, that makes two of us.”

There was a pause and he asked, “You don’t mean now, do you?”

“No.  For once Ben, I think even I’ve had enough for one night.”

“Thank god,” he slumped back into the pillow, “I’m fucking exhausted.  Literally.”

In the morning, I stayed in bed waiting for him to finish in the bathroom.  He came out with a towel around his waist and stood, looking down at me, a little bleary eyed from lack of sleep.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

I smiled, “Like I got my ass handed to me in a wrestling match.  You?”

“About the same,” he said ruefully, “look at this.”

He put his foot up on the mattress and showed me his shin, where there was a heel-sized bruise.  He turned, pointing out another mark on his bicep as well as long, thin gouges down his back from my fingernails.

I made a face, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.  I have a feeling I’m not the only one with battle scars.”

He pulled the duvet back and sat down.  It was his turn to wince as he gently touched my hip, tracing the finger shaped bruises there and he asked me to roll over, which I did, somewhat gingerly.

“Oh Christ, I’ve left a bite mark.  Does this hurt?” He asked running his finger over my shoulder blade.

“A bit.” I said into the pillow. “I kind of like it.”

When he didn’t respond, I turned to look at him, his eyebrow raised as he waited for my explanation.

I shrugged, “I can’t help it.  For the rest of the day, whenever I reach for something and see the red line on my wrist from your hand or bend down and feel my muscles seize, it’ll make me think why.  Being sore from having sex with you has become a thing for me.  A bit of a fetish.”

“But leaving marks on each other?”

“It wasn’t intentional, it was in the heat of the moment and bruises fade.  Don’t overthink it Ben.  Please?”

He looked into my eyes, searching for something and I stared back, letting him see that I had no fear of him and definitely no regrets.  He nodded and stood up.

“Bathroom’s all yours.  I’ll go start breakfast.”

Over our second cups of coffee, I reminded Ben about checking his schedule.  He got up to find his phone and stood in the kitchen, scrolling though his calendar.

“I could do tonight if that’s best for you, but actually, Thursday would be better for me.” He looked up, “You could ask Charlie and Leah to come along.  I could take you all for supper first.”

“You don’t have to bribe me,” I smiled, “my work schedule is flexible, yours, less so.”

He nodded, “Things are going to ramp up quite a bit over the next week.  Technical run-throughs start on the weekend.  We can’t use the stage while the crew are re-hanging the lights anyway and Feargal’s going to be finalizing all the music and sound cues as well and can’t be in both places at once, so he’s given the cast a rest day on Friday.   I have a couple of interviews but the only one that’s early is a phone-in for radio which I can do in my pyjamas, so Thursday night really is more convenient.”

I carried my dishes to the sink and put my arms around him, resting my head on his chest.  He sounded apologetic and I didn’t want him feeling I didn’t understand.

“Whatever is easiest for you.  I just want us to go out and enjoy ourselves before the run starts and you’re busy every night.”

He kissed the top of my head, “I’ll have Sundays off and my days will be mostly free.”

I looked up at him, “I don’t think Myra will mind if I’m not in by 9 every day.  If you’re gone by..?”

“Not factoring in interviews or meetings and working out with my trainer, and leaving time to get to the theatre for make up, warm ups, that sort of thing, four o’clock most days I should think.”

“There you go then; I’ll change my days off to Sunday and Monday and start going in at noon or something.  I can work as late as I like, if you’re not going to be here anyway.”

He smiled, “It’s November.  You can’t be working outside in the dark.”

“I can work outside until late afternoon, then go to the office for a few hours.” I narrowed my eyes, “Or are you trying to discourage me from starting later?”

“Me?” He laughed, “Certainly not.  I’ll take every extra hour with you I can get.”  He gave me a soft peck on the mouth and continued, “You know I don’t mean it when I say things about you not working, don’t you?  When I joke about writing a fat cheque so you can stay home or travel with me?”

“I don’t take it seriously, no.  Though I do think there’s a tiny, mostly quiet part of you that wouldn’t actually mind if I accepted.”

He frowned, thinking.

“If you couldn’t work, or decided for whatever reason that you didn’t want to, I have to admit, there is a tiny, mostly quiet part of me that wouldn’t mind in the least.”  He put up his hand to stop me interrupting, “On the other hand, without your pride and work ethic, you wouldn’t be you and I love you.  I love you exactly as you are.  Which, ironically, is why I wish you didn’t have to work, so we could always be together.”

I stood on my toes to reach his mouth, kissing him like I might never see him again and his hands fisted in the fabric of my shirt.  When we finally broke apart, he gave me a punchy, lopsided grin, full lips flushed from the pressure of my mouth on his.

“What was that for?”

“You’re a complicated man, Cumberbatch.”

“Me?  I’m not.  Am I?”

“It’s one of the 37 or so reasons I have for loving you, yes.” I kissed him again, more softly this time, “Any idea when you’ll be home tonight?” I asked.

“Not sure,” he said, “shouldn’t be later than seven I don’t think.”

“Don’t dawdle.  I’ll cook.”

We spent a quiet evening at home, curled up on opposite ends of the sofa, each with a book in our hands.  Not surprisingly, given the previous night’s exertions, by ten o’clock, we were both yawning our heads off and I gave up first, sticking a bookmark in the page and announcing that I was going to bed.  As I’d explained to Ben, still being able to feel the physical reminders of our lovemaking the following day had become like foreplay for me and normally, I’d probably have dragged him upstairs for another round as soon as we were finished eating supper.  I was aware that this time, it was different.  I still got a flutter of excitement when I thought about the previous night, and during the day, had kept catching myself smiling while I was working, but I also felt somewhat subdued, a little off kilter.  Attempting to puzzle it out, I’d come to the conclusion that since I’d only had my I.U.D removed a week or so ago, my body was probably still adjusting, making me more sensitive than usual.  Tonight, instead of the usual hot spark of lust that I had expected, for once, I wasn’t thinking about sex.  I wanted closeness, longed for the warmth of his body next to me, but that was all.

“I’m ready for bed.”

His eyes on his book as he turned a page, he said, “I’m just going to finish this chapter.  I’ll be up in 15 or 20 minutes, O.K?”

I swallowed and found myself clenching my teeth to hold the emotions in, telling myself to be a grown up.  Halfway up the stairs, I stopped and turned around.

“Ben, can you…please?”

I suddenly started bawling and he dropped his book and ran up the steps, putting his arms around me.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know.” Clinging to him, I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears, “Hold me.”

I was never more grateful for his willingness to do whatever I asked without question.  

The night before, it had resulted in an absolutely mind-blowing sexual experience; not without complications if I was being honest, but I think in the end, we both thought it had been worth it.  And tonight, before I’d even figured out why I needed it, he carried me to bed and wrapped himself around me.  He stroked my hair, talking to me the whole time, soothing my frayed edges with his voice until I’d stopped crying and calmed down.  I traced his lips and he kissed my fingertips as I stared into his grey-blue eyes.

“Did I scare you?”

“You worried me.  Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes.  I don’t know what came over me.”

His eyebrows slowly went up and he cocked his head questioningly, “You don’t think that, just possibly, it might have anything to do with last night?  Maybe it doesn’t matter that it wasn’t real, there’s some residual…something?”

I considered that, but dismissed it.  There was just one part of it that I wished hadn’t happened and it wasn’t anything he’d done.  I took his hand and laced my fingers with his.

“I knew it wasn’t real and the only thing I feel badly about is the way I handled your side of it, not being clearer and putting you in a difficult position.  Other than that, I don’t regret any of it.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” I smiled as I reassured him, “I’m also sure I’d do it again, if you wanted to.”

His cheeks turned pink and he smiled back, “Perhaps not every day, but yes.  On special occasions.”

We got the giggles and the light and joy in his eyes lifted my spirits.  Laughter led to sweet, soft kisses and a wave of contentment warmed me.

“It occurs to me,” Ben lifted his head, “about you crying?  There might be another explanation.  What you call happy chemicals.”

“I can assure you, that wasn’t me being happy.”

“No,’ he agreed, “it definitely was not.  But do you remember, I told you I’d done some research when we first started experimenting with me dominating you, tying you up, playing with our power dynamics?”

“I remember you said you researched the right way to spank me and I accused you of watching porn.”

He grinned, “Right, but that wasn’t all I did.  I read actual articles and there was one that talked about how your body can only make so much of the things like adrenaline and serotonin at a time.  When you burn through them, probably like you did last night, it takes time to get back to normal and in the meantime, you can experience a low, similar to depression, for a day or two afterward.  I used to watch for it in the beginning, but neither of us ever seemed any the worse for wear so I sort of forgot about it.”

“That makes sense, but it’s weird it’s never happened before.”

He shrugged, “Not really, if you consider that we’ve never gone that far before.”

I nodded, seeing the truth in that.

“How are you doing?” I asked, wondering if he was feeling anything like what I was.

“I haven’t noticed any ill effects, but then, I got to talk about it last night, work through the weirdness, so maybe that’s offset it?  Or maybe it’s different for me, acting as the aggressor?  I don’t know, just a shot in the dark.  I think I’m alright.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“Me too.  Things could get pretty fraught around here if we were both an emotional basket-case.”

“Fuck off.” I laughed.

He ran his fingers through my hair, “Was there something specific that set you off, or had you been feeling this way all day?”

I rolled my eyes at my irrationality, “I wanted you to put your book down and come to bed with me but instead of asking you to, I expected you to read my mind.  When you didn’t, I got upset.  I thought there was different explanation though, for that and for why I’ve been feeling so weird.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, no more I.U.D., so no more hormone regulation.  I haven’t had a proper period yet but I think until I’m back to baseline, I’m likely to a bit all over the place.”

He hugged me a little tighter, “So, this is likely to continue for a while then?  You being a bit all over the place?”

“Nah.” I reached up and ruffled his hair, “I’m sure it’s going to get much worse.  Wait ‘til the PMS rears its ugly head.”

“Hmm,” he thought for a moment, “that’s interesting.”

“What is?”

“Hormones.  If you’re close to ovulating which you once told me has the effect of increasing your libido, I wonder if that would have anything to do with last night.”

“Wow.  I hadn’t thought of that, but yes.” I grinned, “I also recall my pain tolerance used to increase and that would go some way to explaining why I kept pushing you to go harder.  That is interesting.  I guess Toblerone isn’t the only thing I crave.”

“I’ll check on our chocolate and booze stores tomorrow.  Lay in some extra supplies, just to be safe.”

“Can you pick up popcorn?  I always used to want popcorn.”

“Absolutely.  Anything else?”

I put my arms around him, “You.  What else could I possibly need?”

He tried to let me sleep in the next morning, though he was hopeless at it.  Invariably, the quieter he tried to be, the greater the likelihood he’d drop something or stub his toe.  I did fall asleep again after I heard the front door close, only to wake when I heard him come back in briefly and swear as he tripped over something in the entryway.  When I did get up, around 10, I showered and going down to the kitchen, discovered the reason for his return trip.  He’d run to the bakery down the street and picked up a couple of pain au chocolat for my breakfast.  They were in a box on the counter along with a note:

_‘Hope this helps to soothe the savage breast but if not I’ll happily order you a double serving of chocolate cake for dessert.  See you at six. xoxox, Ben.”_

I ate one pastry with my coffee and took the other one with me.  Before going to Charlie’s, I ran another errand, stopping by Massimo’s jewelry store to pick up our rings.  He’d left me a message to say they were ready and I wanted to pick them up before Ben decided to do it, so I could keep my special request a secret.  Max buzzed me through the security door and took me straight to the back office where we’d met previously, away from prying eyes.  My own ring was in a box with a ribbon tied tightly around it.

“Can I open it?” I asked.

He frowned, “Cara, no.  It’s bad luck.  Take it home and give it to Benedict.”

He popped a second box onto the table and adjusted the magnifying lamp so I could see the detail.  As I turned Ben’s ring from side to side in my fingers, the tiny diamonds twinkled in the light and I held my wrist up, comparing the design of the stones in my bracelet to the inside of his band.

“It’s just right Max.  Thank you so much.”

Slapping my credit card down, it occurred to me that I’d better go online soon and check my balance.  Max was a nice man and he considered Ben a valued customer, but his services definitely did not come cheaply.

I ate the second pastry in the car on the way to Charlie’s office to meet him and Leah.  Brushing crumbs from my clothes as I walked in the front door, I heard her call my name and she ran the last few steps to join me.  We took the elevator up to his floor.  The receptionist knew we were coming and showed us straight in, telling us we could help ourselves to tea or coffee and that Charlie was still in a meeting but should be with us soon.  Leah wandered over to the tea tray and asked if I wanted anything.  I smiled and went behind the desk to the bar fridge I knew was there from my previous visits.

“Champagne?” I suggested, holding up a bottle.

“Ooh, yeah, definitely!  Where do you think he’s hidden my dress?” She asked, looking around.

“If I know Charlie,” I answered, popping the cork and pouring, “it’s not anywhere we could get at it.  He’ll want to do a grand reveal.”

“Of course he will.” She said, clinking her glass against mine.

Knowing there was no point in searching the office, we sat down to drink our wine and wait for Charlie.  His meeting must have been important because we were on our second glasses by the time he flew through the door with an assistant, laden with garment bags, at his heels.  He took a moment to peruse the scene before him and scowled.

“Make yourselves at home, why don’t you?”

“We have.” Said Leah from where she lay on the sofa.

“It really is a lovely office Charlie.” I said, reclining further in his chair.

“Get your feet off my desk, you barbarian.  And pour me a glass if you haven’t drunk it all.”

“How was your meeting?” Leah asked.

Charlie was supervising as his assistant unpacked each of the dresses, changing the order she was hanging them in and he called his answer over his shoulder, “It wasn’t a meeting, it was three meetings.  I scheduled everything for the morning so I could spend the entire afternoon with the two of you.”

“Speaking of spending time together, Ben and I are going out tonight and we wondered if you two wanted to come along.  Dinner and dancing?”

“I can’t.  Andy and I have theatre tickets.” He didn’t look too disappointed

“I can’t either.” Leah said, “I have another date with Geoffrey.” She looked excited.

“Oh.  That’s too bad, it would have been fun.” I looked for another champagne bottle.

“You should have given us more notice.” Charlie said.

“I would have, but we only decided yesterday.” 

“Next time then.” Leah, not as experienced with Charlie’s approach to dress selection as I had become, was looking askance at the many, many items now on display.

“I told you, grand reveal.  He’s going to make you try on at least ten of them before you get to the one you thought you were here to see.” I grinned at Charlie’s scandalized expression and opened the Moët.

He walked to the desk to top off his glass, “Shows how little you know.  Those aren’t all for Leah, some are for you.”

“For me?  No way, this is supposed to be Leah’s day.”

Leah rolled her eyes, “I don’t need a whole day.  I know which dress I want already.”

“Exactly,” Charlie agreed, “though I’ve brought back-ups just in case it doesn’t live up to our expectations.  And as for you,” he said to me, “I always keep my eye out for clothes I think will work for you, for whatever events you might have coming up, and I put them aside.  Not to mention, you need more than one outfit for the big event.  There’s the rehearsal dinner on the first night, the brunch the day after and I had considered that you may not want to wear your gown for the entire reception so I’ve got one or two options for that as well, should you decide to change.”

Though it wasn’t necessarily my favourite way to spend an afternoon, I no longer dreaded trying on clothes the way I used to.  Charlie had made it much less of a chore in a couple of ways.  He was organized, with accessories and shoes at hand, always made me laugh and generally kept his bar fridge well stocked.  Best of all, he had incredible taste.  He knew my body and the way clothes fit me almost as well as I did and the more we had worked together, the more accurate his selections had become.  We still disagreed on some items, but that was more a matter of him having greater confidence about what I could get away with than I did.  In the end, it was still me that had to wear the clothes and sometimes, be photographed in them, so we’d argue but he’d learned that if he pushed certain pieces on me, that rather than argue, I’d take them home, put them in my closet and never look at them again so our collaboration had become a bit more equal.

“Fine.  You’re right.  But let Leah go first.  I want to see her dress in person.”

Charlie and his helper put the final touches on the dressing table and pulled out the three-sided changing screen.  He and Leah disappeared behind it and I could hear them whispering and laughing as they got her into her dress.  He popped out to grab a pair of bright pink sling backs and I could see her hand on his shoulder for balance as he knelt to help in into them.  He stood back out of the way and Leah peeked around the screen.

“Ready?”

I nodded and she walked out to stand in front of us, biting her lip as she waited for our reactions.  My hands flew to my face and I stared.

“Oh my god Leah, it’s gorgeous!  You’re gorgeous!”

She relaxed, reassured that she’d chosen well and Charlie told her to close her eyes, then went and turned her to face the mirror.

“Open them.” He said.

Her happy smile was immediate as she looked at herself.  The dress was sleeveless, showing off her long, toned arms and the vertical stripes of navy and white made her look even taller.  The straight lines were broken up by a decorative embroidered design at the waist, with bright green vines and little flowers in shades of pink, purple and white, making it softer than it might otherwise be.  She really was so pretty, with her shiny black hair cropped in a pixie cut showing off her neck, and she looked incredibly elegant in the long dress, but still fun and I could see why she’d said she could shorten it after the wedding and use it again.

“It’s not the most traditional bridesmaid’s dress.  Are you sure you’re O.K. with it?” she asked me.

“I’m more than O.K. with it.  In fact, it’d look great on a red carpet and I’m kind of jealous I didn’t see it first.” I grinned, “But if you’re not sure, we could find you something with lots of big bows and nice puffy sleeves.”

“Yikes.  No thanks, I’m good.”

“The length is about right,” Charlie said, “luckily you’re as tall as a model.  And the fit isn’t bad but I think we need to loosen the bust and tighten the armholes or your boobs are going to be squeezing out the sides.”

“I hadn’t thought about alterations.  Can you recommend someone to tailor it for me?”

Charlie gave a sly smile, “As a matter of fact, I can.” He opened the office door and called, “We’re ready for you.”

I looked up as Georgina from the bridal store came in.  With her was Magda, who had measured and pinned my wedding dress, promising to make it fit like it had been made for me, and she was carrying my dress in her arms.

I jumped up and hugged Charlie, so pleased that he’d arranged this, not only saving me yet another trip to the shop for a fitting but also for making the day feel like an event.  I was excited to put my dress on again and also, to see how Leah and I looked together.  I went behind the screen with Magda and started to undress.  I pulled my shirt off and groaned.

“Something is wrong?” Magda asked, in her strong Russian accent.

“I didn’t know you were coming.  I’m wearing a black bra.”

“Pfft.” She flapped her hand, dismissing my concern, “Take off.  I make dress so you can wear without.”

“You’re kidding.”

I’d been wondering how I was going to hide a bra behind the sheer back of my dress.

“No, is real.  You’ll see.”

Sliding my arms into the sleeves, I began to pull the dress up and she stopped me, telling me to bend at the waist and ‘bring breasts up’, like I was putting on a bra.  That’s when I realized she’d sewn cups into the bodice.  I tried to hold still while she fastened me into the gown and I could already feel how differently it fit to the first time I’d had it on.  It was snug, hugging my torso, but not so tight that I couldn’t breath comfortably and when I raised my arms experimentally, I could tell I’d be able to move, and dance, easily.  They hadn’t brought the veil and I was barefoot so the dress was still a little long, but I walked out with my head held high and faced the mirror.  I was already more emotional than usual but the sight of myself in this dress was enough to make my eyes well up, just as they’d done in the shop.

Leah came over to stand next to me and silently held out a tissue between two fingers, making me laugh.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.  Nice dress.”

“You too.”

We looked at each other in the mirror and got the giggles and Charlie tried to sneak a picture but I caught him and put my foot down again.  In a moment, we were surrounded by the three of them, Georgina and Charlie offering advice and commentary and Magda, whirling around with a mouthful of pins, adjusting the fit and never once poking either of us, despite our junior prom giddiness.  The two women left with both our dresses, promising they’d be ready for a final fitting in a week. 

Charlie saw them out and when he returned, we began to hunt through the rest of the selections until we agreed which of them I’d try on.  It took a fair amount of time, though I did finally nail down one definite choice for the brunch the day after the wedding but I couldn’t decide between two others for the rehearsal dinner.  Both were cocktail dresses, the navy one long sleeved and hemmed just above the knee, the red one, with elbow length sleeves and even shorter than the blue, which I wasn’t sure about.

“Well look,” Charlie finally said, his exasperation showing, “I think you should show your legs more often.  Other than that, the red one fits as well as the blue one, but it is lower cut so maybe it’s not quite as appropriate for a wedding adjacent event.”

“You picked them both.  You couldn’t have noticed that before?”

“They look different on you than on the hanger, alright?  Leah, what do you think?”

Leah, having tired of our back and forth, was reading a magazine.  She glanced up, “I like them both and I have no problem with how low cut that one is.  I just think it’s massively unfair that you look so good in red; gingers aren’t supposed to.”

“Great.  That’s helpful.”

She tossed the magazine onto the desk, “Take the blue one for the dinner and wear the red one tonight, for your date with Ben.  At this point, it’s not as though you have time to go home and change anyway.”

Checking the clock on the wall, I saw she was right.  I was supposed to be picking Ben up in three quarters of an hour and I still had to get through traffic to the theatre.  The dress did suit me and Charlie had already found me a pair of black pumps to wear with it.  I could touch up my make up in the bathroom and I was sure I had a barrette in my bag, so I could put my hair back.

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Boredom is the mother of invention, or whatever the saying is.” Leah yawned.  “Can I go now?  I have my own date to get ready for.”

“Yes, of course.  Thank you both for today, it was fun.”

We hugged and Leah headed out through the now deserted office, for the elevator.  Charlie let me into the executive bathroom so I could freshen up but before he left me on my own, he leaned on the doorframe, grinning at me.

“What?”

Barely suppressing his amusement, he said, “Magda was too polite to say anything, but I thought I should mention, in the future?  If Ben’s going to bite you hard enough to leave tooth marks, maybe you could direct him to areas that don’t show when you’re wearing your wedding dress?  Tacky, tacky, darling.”

I looked at him in embarrassed horror as he backed away, waving good bye with his fingers.  He was never going to let me live this down.

I found a lipstick in my bag that didn’t clash with the red of my dress (and now my face) and clipped part of my hair up.  I was fighting the clock though so I didn’t waste too much time primping before buttoning my coat and making for my car as quickly as I could in the slightly too high heels I was wearing, the clothes I’d arrived in stuffed into the bottom of the garment bag with the other dress.

Waiting for the car to warm up, I checked my messages.  Ben hadn’t called yet, but he’d known I’d be busy today and I texted to let him know I was on my way but would probably be late.  He responded a minute later, saying he’d be watching for me from the front lobby of the theatre.  When I got there, I flashed the headlights and pulled ahead into the nearest available space.  Ben ran out, holding his hand like a visor to keep the rain off his glasses.

“Hi.” He said, hopping into the passenger seat and leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. “Did Jeremy get hold of you?”

“No.  I had a couple of missed calls from him but no message so I figured it mustn’t have been urgent.  He called you?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, “The thing is, rather than wait and go with me to get a suit made, he’s bought one.  Now he’s had some time to think it over, he’s not so sure it was a wise idea and he wants to show it to us.”

“Alright.  When?”

He chewed his lip.

“Tonight.”

“He’s working tonight.  He told me this morning when I called to see if he and Alice wanted to come out with us.”

“Yeah, I know.  Only he bought the suit today on his way to work and he’s got it with him at the restaurant.  He asked if we could swing by, just for five minutes.  He’ll put it on and get our opinion and then we’ve got the rest of the night.”

It wouldn’t be five minutes.  Jem’s café was north, nowhere near the city centre and it was a huge detour.

“It’s a suit.  What’s the big deal?  I can go look tomorrow or we can go together on the weekend or something.”

“Kai, I think it’s not so much the suit as the idea that it’s the suit.  For your wedding.  He wants to get it right and he is your man of honour after all.  You spent the whole afternoon with Leah, choosing her dress.  It’s only fair really.”

I sighed.

“You’re right.” I put the car in gear and shoulder checked before pulling away from the curb, “I was being selfish.  It’s Jem and taking a drive is the least I can do.  If the suit’s really bad, he needs to know sooner rather than later anyway.”

As we made our way out of the city, skirting the Heath on our way north Ben asked about my day and I filled him in.  He made me laugh with his imitation of his director, Feargal and I could feel how excited he was getting now that they were so close to previews.  We made fairly good time getting to Jem’s and though we ended up having to park a block away, were fortunate to find a spare umbrella tucked in the pouch behind the driver’s seat.  Ben held the umbrella high, his arm around me as we ran, hopping over puddles and he swept the door of the restaurant open for me.

I scanned the room for Jem, finding him behind the bar and I couldn’t help responding in kind when he flashed me a bright, happy smile.  It took me a second to notice first, how quiet it was and second, that there seemed to be an awful lot of familiar faces in the room, before there was a deafening shout of ‘SURPRISE’, loud enough to rattle the glassware.

I took a step back, straight into Ben’s arms and he was laughing as he caught me.  I looked around again, seeing Leah with Charlie and Andy, Alice, grinning fit to burst as her camera flashed and a bunch of Ben’s closest friends, David and Elise, Ollie and Victoria and Tom, apparently pressed into service behind the bar with Jem.  Seated near the back of the room were Chloe and Liam with Tim, and Wanda, holding the baby with her hand covering her ear to muffle the shouts and laughter.

“What is this?” I asked.

“This, my love, is our engagement party.” He grinned so wide I could practically see his molars, “Surprise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to attach a pic of Leah's dress, but have discovered that when I saved the image, I neglected to save the URL and now I'm having trouble finding it again. Sigh.  
> I'll keep looking and update if I locate it. Fortunately, I remembered to bookmark Kai's, or I'd really be in trouble!


	37. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good lord, has it really been that long since I posted the last chapter?!  
> To be honest, not much of consequence happens in this one, but they can't all be emotional roller coasters and it is a party after all!
> 
> In all seriousness though, thank you, all of you who come back when I do update. I appreciate each and every hit, kudo and comment.  
> Em.

What You Put Into The World

Chapter 37 – Celebration

 

I’d barely had a moment to absorb Ben’s announcement before we were mobbed by our friends, hugging us, asking if I really hadn’t known, saying over and over, ‘you should have seen your face!’.  I had Ben’s arms around me from the back and Alice embracing me from the front and was sandwiched between them when I looked over her shoulder, making eye contact with Jem, who winked.  He was leaning on the bar with a broad smile on his face, letting everyone else say hello first, get their hugs in and finally, give us a moment to take our coats off. 

“When did you have time to organize this?” I asked Ben, knowing how packed his schedule had been.

“I made time but I couldn’t have done it alone.” His eyes were bright with happiness, pleased that he’d pulled off his surprise, “Jem, obviously, and Alice were involved from the start.  Elise agreed to be the contact person for the guests so there wouldn’t be a trail on my phone and she spent all afternoon decorating.  I certainly couldn’t have managed it without Charlie and Leah keeping you busy.”

“I’m just floored.”

“The look of shock on your face was priceless.”

“No, I’m floored you didn’t accidentally blab.” I grinned, “That’s not like you.”

“Shut up,” he held out his hand, “and pass me your coat.”

Just as impressive was Jem managing to keep the secret even as he and Ben plotted together.  Charlie and Leah had pulled off their performances perfectly, not only getting me into the dress Charlie had chosen for me to wear but convincing me they both had other plans tonight.  I began to truly grasp the depth of the conspiracy when Ben turned back to me from hanging up our coats, so handsome in his silvery-grey suit, with a tie in a very familiar shade.

“Your tie matches my dress.” I said, with maybe a hint of accusation, “Did everyone know what I’d be wearing?”

Smoothing it with his fingers, he said, “I didn’t actually, but when a tie arrives in a box with a note from Charlie saying, ‘For the party.  You’re welcome.’, you wear it.” He took my hands and looked me up and down, “You should wear red more often.  You’re breathtaking.”

One of the few benefits of high heels was how much easier it made it to reach his gorgeous lips and I took full advantage, throwing my arms around his neck and he lifted me clear off the floor as we kissed.  We were interrupted by a loud cheer from the guests and it delighted me to see him blush in response.

“Don’t let me forget to thank everyone.” I said, thinking specifically of Elise, wondering how she’d been feeling and if she’d just been too polite to turn down Ben’s request for help.

Now Jem materialized at our side with a tray balanced on one hand and even the cocktails were red.  He offered them with a flourish and a silly bow.

“Red Maple Sunset.” He announced, “In your honour, Maple Leaf.”

Ben and I took our glasses, raised them to each other and took a sip.

“Oh shit, this is delicious.” I said.

Jem frowned, “Uh…that’s good, no?”

“Good and bad.  I’ll have to remember to pace myself and drink lots of water.”

“Fortunately, there’s plenty of food too.  Ben and I have designed a special menu.”

I put my arm around Ben’s waist, “Sneaky bastards.  What’s on it?”

“That’s a surprise too.” Ben answered.

Jem grinned, “Rather than a sit-down meal, we’ve done it all as hors d’oeuvres.  Pay attention and see if you can guess the theme.”

I took a moment to look around the room again and noticed something missing.

“The stage is gone.  No live music tonight?”

“I promised you dancing.” Ben smiled, “Jem’s got us a DJ and took the platform out to make a larger dance floor.”

I took another sip of my cocktail and reached out to give Jem’s hand a squeeze, “I’m going to go say hi to Wanda and Tim.  I’ll catch up with you in a bit, O.K?”

“You know where to find me.” He said, indicating the bar with a jerk of his head.

Taking Ben’s hand, I led him through the room, in the direction of his parents.  It took forever to make our way to their table as we stopped to say hello to everyone on the way there, including Linda who made a point of assuring me she was there only as a guest and had had nothing to do with the planning. 

“I’m rather flattered to have been invited,” she twinkled at Ben, “usually I only attend these when I’m involved in my official capacity.”

“Still, I notice you have your notebook handy.” I nodded, indicating the pocket of her cardigan.

She patted the pad with her perfectly manicured hand, “Not having to be in charge of anything leaves me plenty of time to observe and absorb.  The more I know about the sort of party the two of you enjoy, the better I’ll be at organizing your reception.”

“Try to relax and enjoy the party too though, alright?  All work and no play, remember?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I’m having a wonderful time.  Tom Hiddleston’s already asked me to save him a dance and I’m going to choose a slow one.”

Ben had just raised his cocktail to his lips and had to clap his hand over his mouth when Linda gave us a salacious wink.

“Go for it,” I bantered, “I happen to know he’s single.”

“Oh, would you look at that, it seems my glass is empty.” She leaned to the side, peeking around me and I turned to follow her gaze to Tom, pulling a pint behind the bar, “Do you think my husband would believe me if I said he just followed me home?”

With another wink, she tottered toward the bar and Ben and I were still giggling when we stopped to say hello to David and Elise.  She looked well and rested, the colour back in her cheeks and I pulled her aside to ask how she was doing as David and Ben continued on to Tim and Wanda’s table.

“I’ve been taking iron tablets and I’m getting B12 shots so I’m feeling much better.  David insisted on putting the kids in pre-school a couple of days a week too and he drops them off on his way to work so I can have a lie-in and some quiet time to myself.  I swear Kai, it’s made a world of difference and I’m even sleeping better.”

“I’m so glad,” I assured her, “I was worried.”

“So was I.” She admitted, “I’m still waiting on some test results, but honestly, I feel so much stronger; like myself again.”

Looking around the room, admiring the decorations, I said, “Clearly, you’ve got your energy back.  Ben said he couldn’t have done it all without you.”

She dismissed that with a flap of her hand, “I insisted on being involved.  He and Jeremy had the food and drink in hand but they didn’t have much time for decorating so if I hadn’t offered…”

“They’d have got Alice to do it.” I smiled, ‘And since Jemmy’s probably already been running her ragged with the organizing, I’m sure she’s grateful to you too.”

Giving her hand a quick squeeze and promising to catch up with her again later, I went over to see Tim and Wanda, passing Ben going the other direction with his hands full of empty glasses.

“Hello dear.” Wanda turned and gently slid the sleeping Charlotte into Liam’s arms, “We’ve just sent Ben off for drinks.  Did you need anything?  Tim can go.”

Hanging my purse on the back of a vacant chair, I raised my glass to them, “I’m fine, thanks.”

Tim stood first, practically hugging the air out of my lungs, “Hello Kai.  Were you surprised, truly?”

Before I could answer, Wanda tapped his arm, “Of course she was.  You saw her.  She had no idea!”

I answered him as Wanda and I hugged, “I really didn’t.  I’m still amazed that, with this large a group, no one spilled the beans.”

Wanda tittered, “They hardly had time.  Those boys threw this thing together in little more than a week!”

“You’re joking.”

She shook her head, “Ben’s been rescheduling like a madman, doubling up on interviews, having the costume people from his next film come meet him at the theatre to save him a trip – and he’s been trying to do it all while you were at work, so you wouldn’t notice.”

Ben, across the room at the bar, turned his head as though he could feel me looking at him.  He smiled and I felt such a surge of love for him that I sighed.  I hadn’t realized I’d done it aloud until Chloe, having joined us, snickered.

“It’s so funny seeing you like this, all soppy and in love.”

Charlotte let out a loud squawk which immediately drew everyone’s attention.  Tim folded his long frame and leaned over Liam, smiling, besotted, as the baby seized his finger and pulled it toward her mouth, causing Wanda to leap in and ask him if his hands were clean.  Chloe watched in peaceful silence, knowing her daughter was in good hands.  I picked up where we’d left off.

“I’m not soppy.”

Chloe gave me a look, and imitated the way I’d sighed. 

“Well, maybe I am.” I admitted. “A bit.”

She sipped from her glass, eyes sparkling merrily, “You certainly are.  I mean, you’re still sarcastic and swear-y and don’t suffer fools and all that, but it’s just so obvious how happy you are.  Even Liam was saying, after you were over the other night, how you have a different energy, and he never notices anything.”

“A different energy?” I scoffed, “How’s my aura Mystic Meg?”

She jabbed me with her elbow, “I’m serious.  You know how your fidgeting used to drive me mad?  I was always giving you hell about bouncing your foot or tapping your fingers on the tabletop?  You don’t do that anymore.  You’re more peaceful.”

“Ha!” Wanda, who had overheard, blurted from my other side, “I’ve said exactly the same thing about Benedict, haven’t I Kai?”

I nodded, remembering the day in the pub car park when she’d told me he was calmer and more relaxed than she’d ever known him to be, “You said he was fulfilled.  I think that makes two of us.”

Ben had returned to the table with a tray full of glasses while we’d been talking.  Wanda accepted her refill and, sitting down, recounted to him exactly what Chloe had said.  He agreed with her assessment but sneaked a look at me from the corner of his eye.

“So, this is you, calmer and more peaceful?  What in god’s name were you like before?”

I grinned and Chloe answered for me, “What I meant was, she was sort of…look, she was fun and funny, kind and good-hearted and all that, but there was always something a bit, unsettled about her.  I’m sure you know by now she has a temper and there was always a whiff of danger, the feeling that if you made her angry, you’d regret it.”

Ben grinned, “Yeah, I can see that.”

“So, if you did have an aura,” Chloe said to me, “you may not give off the most tranquil and relaxing shade of blue yet, but you’ve moved firmly into the green spectrum.”

Standing between them as they nodded at each other in full agreement, I snorted, “What a bunch of horseshit.  Being in love hasn’t changed my personality.”

“Case in point.” Chloe chuckled at my bluntness. “I didn’t say it had.  Who you are is the same but since you met Ben, you give off a kind of relaxed confidence that you didn’t have before.  I’m not criticizing, I think it’s wonderful.”

Ben put his arm around me, “You haven’t changed for me, nor I for you but I do think being together has changed us both, and for the better.”

I looked from him to Chloe and back again, considering.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll concede that.  I’m the first to admit I’m more confident than I used to be.”

“You certainly are, if your outfit is anything to go by.” Liam, who had joined the conversation, said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m used to you in jeans and boots, like one of the boys.” He explained cheerfully, “I can’t quite picture you doing an oil change in that dress.”

“Don’t be stupid.” I said archly, “My oil change dress is black.  Obviously.”

“Can you bend over in your black oil change dress?” Chloe, barely able to contain her laughter, asked, “Because I’m not sure it would be the best idea in the one you’re wearing.”

“Chloe!” I felt my face reddening.

“I’m only teasing, you look great.” She assured me. “Liam’s right though, your clothes have changed but then, you didn’t used to walk a lot of red carpets before.  And when I see you in photos, you do look happy and confident.”  She waited a beat, “Even if your dress is skin tight.”

I was amused, but also slightly embarrassed, “That isn’t confidence, it’s pure self defence.  Not being the skinniest girl in the room, every time I’m photographed wearing something loose, some asshole writes a blurb suggesting I’m pregnant.”

Picking up my purse, I left them laughing, swinging my hips as I walked away to emphasize the fit of the dress.  Truthfully, my self esteem was higher than it had been.  Of all the ways in which my life had changed and improved with Ben, this was perhaps, the thing I was most grateful for.

I put my empty glass on the bar, returning Jem’s happy smile.

“I’m ready for another, please.” I looked down the bar to the taps, “Hi Tom!”

He waved with two fingers, barely looking up, concentrating on pulling a proper pint of Guinness.  Jem began pouring alcohol into a cocktail shaker and I congratulated him again on keeping the party a secret, though I continued to be more amazed that Ben had managed it.  Jem put my fresh drink on the bar along with two shot glasses.  Holding up a bottle of Patrón that he kept for special occasions, he waggled his eyebrows in invitation.

“Hit me.”

We tapped our shots together and tossed them back.  Jem was one of the few others I knew who actually liked tequila and didn’t shudder in disgust at the taste.  He put the bottle back down in its hiding place.

“Are you two planning to spend all night back there or are you going to join us?” I asked. “It doesn’t seem right that our Best Men are working the party.”

Glancing at his watch he said, “Five more minutes, then I’ve got a few staff coming on to serve the food and man the bar.  I brought my dancing shoes.”

“Oh god, really?”

Jem was an enthusiastic, but terrible dancer.  It baffled me that someone with such a fine sense of rhythm could be so absolutely hopeless on the dance floor.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “tonight’s the night I unleash the full glory of Dancing Jeremy on Alice.  If she doesn’t run for the hills, I’ll know it’s true love.”

I chuckled but wondered if I shouldn’t warn her, just so she was prepared.  Reaching into my purse, I palmed the box holding Ben’s ring and, glancing over my shoulder to make sure he was still on the other side of the room, slid it across the bar top.

“Hey, Man of Honour, can you put this somewhere safe?”

He held the box down low and opened it, “What’s the sparkly bit on the inside?  Some kind of engraving?”

Tom, having seen our subterfuge, came over to see what we were hiding and gave a whistle of appreciation as he peered at the ring.  Jem’s face lit up when I tapped my bracelet and explained what I’d had Max do. 

“That’s lovely.” Tom said, “He’s going to be over the moon.”

“He’d better be.  It cost more than my first car.”

“Change the subject.” Jem hissed, sticking the ring box in his pocket and Tom made a hasty retreat back to the beer station.

I felt a hand on the small of my back and Ben bent, kissing my temple, “Was that tequila you two were drinking?”

“It was.” Jem said, “Would you like one?”

Ben nodded enthusiastically and Jem poured three more, which we quickly tossed back.

“Alright, that’s it for me.” I said firmly, “I’ll need to sober up if I’m going to get us home.”

“No, don’t be silly.  We’ll take a taxi.”

“Then I’ll have to come back to pick up my car.”

Jem held his hand out, “Give me your keys.  Alice’s Mum is coming to the city tomorrow and we’re taking her to a show.  We can drop your car on the way.”

I wrestled my house keys off the ring and passed the rest over to Jem just as two of his regular bartenders arrived to take his place.  He excused himself to go and run over a few last-minute instructions with the serving staff and Ben and I turned, leaning on the bar.  I looked up at him.

“This is wonderful Ben, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I feel a bit guilty that you went to so much trouble.  It’s not as though you’ve had a ton of spare time lately.”

He put his arm around me, “There’s no need to feel guilty.  To me, you’re worth every second.”

I slipped my hand under his jacket to stroke his back and we surveyed the room.  For the first time, I noticed Myra and Phil were there, bringing the grand total of guests on ‘my side’, up to nine.  Ten if I counted the baby.  And yet, the room was full, buzzing with conversation and I restrained myself from doing a head count of Ben’s guests.  He’d promised me a maximum of fifty at the wedding so he could have as many as he liked at this party.  Especially since he’d done all the work of planning it. 

Now I saw another familiar face, deep in conversation with Victoria and pointed it out to Ben, “Look who your sister’s with.  I wonder what they’re discussing.” I said sarcastically.

“Art?” He suggested half-heartedly.

“Fine furnishings.” I countered.

“The state of the free market?”

“Yes, you’ve nailed it.  The free market.  Definitely not the unsuitability of your fiancée.”

I had met Ben’s sister Tracy exactly twice and neither time had gone well.  Within fifteen minutes of sitting down with her for lunch, I was wondering how two such different children could have been raised in the same household, and barely made it through the meal without bolting.  Giving her the benefit of the doubt, and in service of familial harmony, I’d tried again, inviting her and her husband to dinner at the flat with Tim and Wanda as a buffer.  She’d picked listlessly at the food, finding everything either too spicy or too salty.  She ignored or dismissed all my attempts at conversation and by the time Ben and I had finished clearing the table, I was done.  I had accepted that personality-wise, Tracy and I were oil and water and though I’d tried, for Ben’s sake, to like her, it was never going to happen.  It was obvious to everyone there that night that it wasn’t only me who’d felt that way.  She’d made her opinion crystal clear to the point that Ben had spent the next two days apologizing.

And now, she’d found Victoria.  ‘Perfect’, I thought to myself.

Ben had moved to stand in front of me, blocking my view of the room and my un-fan club of two. 

“Why is it that I keep having to remind you that you don’t care what other people think?” He asked quietly.

“To paraphrase Inigo Montoya, ‘I do not think that means what you think it means’.” I answered in a terrible Spanish accent. “When it comes to strangers, no, I don’t care what they think.  I’m going to do what I like regardless.  But we aren’t talking about _people_ ; we’re talking about your people, who care about you, who are part of your life.”

I buried my nose in his collar, not caring what harm my lipstick might do to the material.

“I wish you wouldn’t let it get to you.  It’s me you’re marrying, not them, and I think you’re fucking fantastic.”

Breathing in his pure, essential Ben-ness, I put my lips to his ear and admitted, “I know I shouldn’t care but I can’t help it.  It’s not the end of the world, this thing with Victoria, but Tracy?  She’s your sister.  I don’t want to be the reason you don’t see her.”

He shrugged and took my chin, raising my face to look at him _,_ “I still see her.  We have lunch a couple of times a month and honestly love, I didn’t see her much more than that before.  She’s a great deal older and we really don’t have a thing in common besides Mum.  And anyway,” he assured me, “it’s not going to change my mind about you, so in the end, what difference does it make?”

“Nobody likes being disliked.” I said sulkily, “It’s annoying and very difficult not to take personally.”

“It’s not as though you like either of them.”

“Being aware it’s a double standard doesn’t make me feel any better.”

He was still chuckling when a server appeared with a tray and Ben scooped two small dishes off it, passing one to me.  I held it to my nose and inhaled, setting my stomach growling.

“Jambalaya?”

He nodded and dug in, his eyes closing as he chewed.  It was delicious; rich and spicy, the seafood perfectly cooked and I looked in vain for the waiter to make his way back to us so I could have another.  Ben pulled two of the bar stools close together and helped me up before taking his seat next to me.  I hooked my high heels on one of the rungs and wondered how long it would be before I’d take them off completely.  Definitely not before I’d danced with Jem; my toes would need the protection.

I saw Liam crossing the room, Charlotte in his arms and a diaper bag over his shoulder.  He was heading for the entrance and I was about to hop up and go after him, assuming he was taking the baby home and wanting to say good bye, but then I noticed the woman waiting by the door who I recognized as his Mum.  She took the baby and the bag, accepted Liam’s kiss on the cheek, and waving to Chloe on the other side of the restaurant, left.  Liam came up to the bar, cracked his knuckles and ordered a double martini.

“Enough messing around.” He announced. “Chloe’s informed me we’re dancing tonight and, while anyone looks good in comparison to Jeremy, I still need a little Dutch courage.”

He leaned on the bar, took a sip of his cocktail and blew out a breath, “Yeah, that oughta do it.  Catch you later.”

He made his way back to his wife and a few minutes later, a new tray of food was offered; little rounds of rice topped with an aromatic chicken curry.  As I popped a spoonful into my mouth, I caught Ben’s eye.

“Jem mentioned a theme.” I said, holding my finger to my lips as I chewed.

He nodded and asked, “Any ideas?”

“Maybe...”

The next time the servers trooped out of the kitchen, a familiar aroma hit my nose, bright and distinctive.  Bergamot.  I lifted a dish from the proffered tray and took a sniff.  Wrapped inside a tender lettuce cup was a morsel of salmon, smoky and perfumed with Earl Grey.  I made a guess.

“Is it the meals we ate together when we started seeing each other?  We had salmon like this on our date at Heston Blumenthal’s restaurant, and we ate jambalaya in New Orleans.”

“Yes, first dates and special favourites!” He smiled, pleased that I’d gotten it, “The first meal you ever cooked for me was a curry, that night I couldn’t wait to see you again and arrived uninvited at your house.”

“You came for me, and ended up getting high with Jeremy.” I teased.

“I did, yeah.  Christ, I was nervous.  I had no idea how you’d react to me just showing up that way.”  He exhaled, remembering happily, “We sat outside and you showed me the constellations but I could barely focus on anything except the fact that I was holding you in my arms.”

“Me too.  I was already beginning to realize how special you are.” I turned to him, “I thought it was going to kill me when you left for the States.”

He looked into my eyes, “I think I was already in love with you.”

I put my hand to his cheek, held eye contact, “It’s not a competition Ben.”

He threw his head back in laughter and I had to admit that making him laugh like that was almost as gratifying as making him moan with pleasure. 

We kept our seats at the bar, thoroughly enjoying the food.  Jem and his cooks had outdone themselves.  There were miniature Yorkshire puddings with rare roast beef topped with horseradish crème fraiche, spoon-sized Shepherd’s pies toasted golden brown on top and finally, perfect little newspaper packets containing tiny servings of crispy fish and chips.  Once the trays had been offered around the room, they were re-filled and placed on a long table so we could help ourselves to more of whatever struck our fancy.  When I came back to my seat after my second trip to the table, this time carrying two plates, Ben chuckled, stole one of my Yorkshire puddings and reminded me to save room for dessert.

“Is there going to be cheesecake?”

His mouth curved into a lop-sided smile, “Do you even have to ask?”

“Grab four of them and meet me in Jeremy’s office.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“But Ben,” I batted my eyelashes, “that’s what I do.”

I never got a chance to find out if he would or not because once the sweets were served, the lights were lowered and the DJ turned up the music.  For the next couple of hours, I was either dancing or on my bar stool resting my throbbing feet.  Every time I’d take a break to catch my breath, Jem’s bartenders would have a full drink on stand by and a new person or group would make their way over, to have a visit or drag me back out for another whirl.  It was great fun, sitting by the bar, getting tipsy, catching up with all our friends and watching everyone try to keep up with Tom on the dance floor.

When the DJ started playing Y.M.C.A. nearly everybody, Tim and Wanda included, left their seats.  Alice slid onto the stool next to me.  She’d been making circuits of the room all evening, camera in hand and I thanked her for documenting it all.

“My pleasure.” She rubbed her hand over her face, looking slightly disconcerted, “It’s given me a good excuse to avoid dancing.”

I bit my lip in sympathy, “He’s awful, isn’t he?”

“Oh my god Kai, I had no idea!  It’s like a drunk uncle at a wedding.”

I howled at her description and I might have felt bad for Jem if it hadn’t been so accurate.

“All night, I’ve had to keep reminding myself how sweet and wonderful he is in every other way.” She looked across the room, watching as Jem spun in a circle, nearly knocking Wanda flying and enthusiastically threw his arms in the air just as everyone else’s came down.  “Oh Christ…” she groaned.

“Drink?” I offered.

“I think it’s the only solution,” she agreed, and turned to the bartender, “Lee?  Can you pour two shots of the good tequila?”

We tapped our glasses together and drank to Jem’s good health, then I pointed to the camera.

“Get any good ones?”

“I’ll go through them in the next week or so and email you so you can let me know if you want any prints made up.  Oh!  There is one I was going to show you.” She thumbed a button on the camera until she found what she wanted, “Look at that.” 

She’d gotten a shot of Ben, head and shoulders, with the most serene, dreamy smile, so beautiful that it gave me a little tingle in my stomach.

“Christ, he’s gorgeous.” I stated the obvious.

Alice agreed, “Yes, though…don’t take this personally but,” she lowered her voice and leaned closer to me, “if the light is wrong, or you get him from a funny angle, he can look downright goofy.”

We giggled and Alice continued, “I find his face fascinating, all those angles, the sharpness of his bone structure, the softness of his mouth and nose.”

I looked at her, slowly raising one eyebrow and she grinned, “Artistically speaking, I assure you.  I’d love to paint him.  When the lighting is right, or,” she tilted the camera so I could see the picture again, “you catch him in a perfect moment, he’s quite startlingly handsome.” 

“You certainly succeeded there.  Who was he talking to when you took that?”

She smiled, “No one.  He was looking at you.”

I was in danger of becoming as soppy as Chloe had accused me of and I looked away, blinking rapidly.  A new song started and up on the dance floor, Ben and Leah were side by side with Charlie and Andy.  I could see that Ben and Charlie were trying to teach their partners how to do the Hustle, and not very successfully.  Charlie was explaining the steps to Andy who was shaking his head in confusion and Leah got her count wrong and crashed into Ben for the second time when, in frustration, Ben held his hand out to Charlie, who seized it without hesitation.  In moments, most of the crowd had backed up to give them room, cheering madly.

I’d seen Ben dance before, but somehow, I’d missed the fact that if you played disco, he magically channeled John Travolta and I was wondering how on earth, why on earth he’d know this dance, when Tim and Wanda slid into view, doing a slowed down version of the same steps and it suddenly made sense.  Ben and Charlie were showing off now, the two of them flying across the floor, footwork in perfect synch to the beat, effortlessly executing turns and spins and I sat with my mouth hanging open.  The song drawing to a close, I reached for my glass, watching as, with the final four beats, Ben spun Charlie, pulled him back in close, and smoothly, elegantly, dipped him.  For a final flourish, Charlie, his back perpendicular to the floor, threw his leg in the air. 

I very nearly spat a mouthful of Red Maple Sunset across the room.

There was an explosion of applause and the boys bowed, first to the crowd, then to each other.   Ben and I made eye contact and he jogged over, breathing hard and wiping his brow with his rolled-up sleeve.  I grabbed his tie, which he had loosened but refused to take off all night, and pulled him to me for a congratulatory kiss.

“You never cease to amaze me.  I had no idea you could dance like that.”

“I hate to tell you this, but other than a waltz, that’s pretty much it for my repertoire.  Couples dances, that is.”  He looked at me from the corner of his eye, “If he plays ‘Thriller’, I’m going knock your socks off.”

“Hold my drink.”

“Where are you going?”

I stood up and kicked my shoes off, “Pre-emptive action,” I explained. “I’m going to make a request.”

He came after me and I broke into a run but he caught me, one arm scooping me off my feet.  I struggled half-heartedly until he set me down and I turned to face him.  He smiled at me and I stood on my toes, putting my arms around him.

“Kiss me.”

He lifted me up again, arms snug around my waist.  I brushed my knuckles across his cheek and he hummed as our lips met, making me smile.  I leaned into the kiss, into him, and the music changed.  The DJ, having leapt forward by at least a decade, played ‘Songbird’ by Fleetwood Mac and the dance floor cleared, leaving us alone.

I whispered, “Could you put me down?”

He shook his head.

“But I want to dance with you.”

He sighed, “Well, if I must…”

There was no formality to our dance, no proscribed steps.  Both of us had had a fair amount to drink and, especially given the circumstances, were feeling a bit emotional.  My arms went to his waist, his encircling my shoulders and I rested my head on his chest.  Even with the music playing, I could hear his heart and I closed my eyes, concentrated on its steady beat and the warmth of his embrace.  His hand came up to cup the back of my head and he pressed a kiss to my forehead.  I looked up _._  Sod it.  I was soppy and wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Ben?” My voice broke, “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

His eyes welled with tears as he tried to answer me, but he couldn’t and finally, he simply nodded.  Taking his face in my hands, I drew him in, our lips meeting softly.  I don’t know how long we held each other that way, how long it had been since the song had ended but eventually I became aware once again of the room around us, filled with our friends, Ben’s family, the murmur of quiet conversation as they let us have our moment.

Ben broke our silence, “I suppose it would be rude if we left now.”

I nodded, “As the engaged couple at the engagement party?  Yes, I would say it would be rude if the only one to go home before us was a 3 month old baby.”

“Fine,” he huffed, “we’ll stay.  But only until another adult leaves, then we’re out of here.”

It was nonsense of course.  Even though he had an interview at 8 the next morning, we didn’t call for our taxi until after midnight.  By then we’d danced so much that Ben’s head was a mass of short, slightly sweaty curls, I had a blister on each foot and neither of us was within a stone’s throw of sober.  We’d packed Tim and Wanda into a cab sometime earlier, sending them off to their place in the city and the stragglers had broken into small groups, scattered around the restaurant or slowly making their way toward the door.

When Charlie and Andy came over to say goodnight, Ben sprung the most wonderful surprise on them.  I’d been thanking them both for coming, when Charlie fixed me with a devious look.

“Jem did a great job on the food, but you two were so busy working the room, did you even get a bite Ben?”

Ben frowned, sensing something was up, “Yeah, sure.”

“I especially enjoyed the salmon.” Charlie went on, “That was a morsel you could really sink your teeth into, don’t you think?”

“Charlie, stop.” I begged, blushing furiously.

“What’s going on?” Ben asked, looking from me to Charlie.

“Please ignore him.  I’ll tell you later.”

“Alright…” he said, then seemed to remember something, asking, “Have you two got plans for New Year’s Eve?”

They looked at each other and Charlie said, “No, not yet.  It’s still a bit of a way off, though it probably seems closer to you two, with the wedding right after.”

“Any chance you might be interested in attending a party?”

Thinking how busy we were going to be with less than a week before we got married and my family in London, I was horrified.

“Are we having a New Year’s Eve party?” I asked.

He saw the look on my face and hurried to reassure me, “God no, not us!  But I was invited to one and knew we couldn’t go, so I asked if I could pass the invitation along to my friends.”

Ben turned and stuck his hand into the pocket of his jacket, hanging on the back of his seat, and pulled out an envelope, thick, heavy paper with both their names embossed on the front in red.  He presented it to Charlie, who beamed, pleased as punch, knowing it must be good if Ben was offering it.

“Who’s hosting?” He asked.

“Elton John.”

Charlie went pale, then two bright spots of colour appeared in his cheeks.  I felt that, if I exhaled, I’d knock him clear to the floor and when he reached for the envelope, his hand was shaking.  Andy was smiling from ear to ear.

“I don’t even know what to say.” Charlie grabbed Ben in a bear hug, “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Ben chuckled, hugging him back, “to thank you for all you’ve done for Kai.”

Watching them leave, I said to Ben, “That’s the closest to speechless I’ve ever seen him.  He didn’t even say anything bitchy about how annoying it’s been dressing me.  That was very sweet of you.”

“It took a few phone calls, Elton being very particular about the guest list, but apparently Charlie’s reputation as a stylist is growing and they’d heard of him.  Still, I have to admit, being famous can be fun when you’re able to do something nice for someone who deserves it.” He looked at me, “What was that all about, his questions about the food?  You went all red.”

“Oh,” I made a face, “that.  I had a wedding dress fitting at his office today and, uh, he noticed the bite mark on my shoulder.”

His eyes got big, “Shit.”

“Fortunately, it was Charlie, so he’s not easily shocked but besides thinking it was fucking hilarious, he warned me we need to make sure it doesn’t happen again, closer to the wedding.”

“Never mind closer to the wedding,” he looked thoroughly embarrassed, “I’ll never bite you again.”

“You will so.” I stroked his jaw with my fingers and quietly said, “The feeling of sharp teeth on soft skin?  You can’t help yourself.”

He shivered and under his breath muttered, “Jesus woman.”

Hopping off my stool, I reached for his hand, “Come on, let’s go say goodnight to everyone so we can get out of here.”

We strolled around, checking in with the few remaining guests, and Jem called us a taxi.  We walked Leah to the door and she mentioned Ben’s dance with Charlie, giving him a cheeky smile.

“I wish I’d filmed it, just so I could see it again.”

“Should I be worried do you think?” I asked her. “He’s never dipped me with that kind of enthusiasm.”

Leah and I looked at each other and lost it, laughing uproariously.  Ben rolled his eyes and stalked away, grumbling to himself about how a man couldn’t have a little dance with a friend without it becoming a big deal, which only made us laugh harder.  Once Leah had gone, I tracked Ben down, put my arms around him and told him to stop sulking.

“I’m not sulking.”

“You are.”

“’m not.” He made a face.

“Are too and how am I going to have sex with you if you’re sulking?”

He shrugged and I just managed to not grin.

“Do you want me to apologize for teasing you?”

He shrugged again.

“I’m sorry Ben.”

“Are you though?”

Now I did grin, “Not really.”

“God you’re awful.”

“You knew that before you proposed, don’t expect me to change now.”

He smiled at me and shook his head, “As if I would.”

“I need to have a pee before we go.  Be a good boy,” I patted him on the bum, “and go see if Tom wants to come home with us.”

I knew it was awful even before I said it and only did it to see the look on his face but he had the last laugh.

“Too late.  He snuck out right after Leah and I saw him getting into her cab.”

I spun around to look out the window, but there was no sign of them.

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not.”

I was momentarily at a loss for words, but with this new piece of information in mind, played the night back and realized how often I’d seen them together, dancing, sitting at a table deep in conversation and I was tickled pink.

“Well, good for them.  Not very traditional though.”

Ben frowned, “What?”

“Don’t the best man and the bridesmaid usually get off together at the wedding?”

Our taxi was waiting when I got back from the bathroom so we hurriedly said our last good byes and ran out.  We were remarkably well behaved in the back of the car, though if the cabbie was hoping for conversation, he was sorely disappointed because we snogged the whole way home.

Kicking my shoes into the closet with a groan of relief, I reached for a hanger and put my coat away, then went into the kitchen.

As I poured a glass of water, Ben hung his suit jacket over a chair at the dining table and took a seat, sideways, with his arm crooked on the top rail.  I drank, admiring his profile over the rim of the glass, unable to wipe the happy smile off my face.  When I’d finished my drink and set the glass on the counter, he held out his hand in invitation.

“Over there?” I gave him a flirtatious look, “Whatever for?”

Eyes crinkling in an easy smile, he pointed at me, “Because over there is too far away.”

I went to him and, putting his arms around my hips, he pulled me between his knees, looking up at me.

“Too far away for what?” I asked, gently rearranging the front of his hair, messing it up the way I liked it.

“Kissing you.” He said quietly.

Touching my finger to his lower lip, I said, “Say ‘you’ again.”

He looked puzzled but obliged me.  I watched his lips draw together in a soft pucker that made me want to imitate it.

“Now say, ‘sure’.”

He’d caught on and spoke slowly, exaggerating his pronunciation for me.

“Always.” I prompted.

The sight of his mouth forming the word, and the way he looked at me when he said it, made my knees weak.  I held his head in my hands and felt his warm lips give under pressure from mine as he squeezed me tighter.  He pushed my mouth open, our tongues meeting, seeking, and I pressed myself to him, needing to be closer.

“You’re so right,” I said, coming up for air, “much easier when I’m over here.”

He chuckled, “We’d look pretty silly trying that from a metre apart.  Sit down.”

I began to lower myself onto his lap but he stopped me.

“Not there,” he patted the table, “here.”

I glanced at the table, “Why?”

His hands went under the hem of my dress, easing it up my thighs, “Seems a good height.”

“For?”

With his hands on my waist, he turned in his seat and boosted me to the tabletop.  Pushing my skirt higher, he lifted the edge and peeked under it.  He looked up at me, one eyebrow arching and I started to giggle at his expression.

“Take a wild guess.”

“Knowing you the way I do, the options are practically limitless.  Can I have a hint?”

He closed his eyes to think and I watched a grin transform his face.  He looked so pleased with himself when his eyes opened and he slowly recited, making up the words as he went along:

 _“A girl in a lovely red dress,_  
_Questioned a gentleman’s request._  
_But after some tongue, she practically sung,_  
_Making sounds she couldn’t suppress.”_

I burst out laughing and gave him a kiss on the nose for his effort but I had to ask, “Since when does ‘request’ rhyme with ‘dress’?”

“I thought it got my point across pretty well, considering it only took me a second.  Can you do better, Clever Clogs?” His fingers grazed the inside of my thigh.

I slapped lightly at his hand, “Stop distracting me…”

He didn’t.  Starting at my knee, pushing my dress out of his way, he nuzzled my thighs as I bit my lip and tried to come up with my own limerick.

“I’ve got it.” I put my hand under his chin and made him look at me.

 _“With his head stuck under my frock,_  
_He argued, ‘Now sweetheart, don’t balk._  
_I’ll give you a fit, by fiddling your clit,_  
_And later, we’ll talk about my cock.”_

His composure completely dissolved, head falling forward, shoulders shaking as he laughed, “Oh my god, that was splendidly rude!  First prize to you.”

“Do I get a blue ribbon?”

He patted his pockets, “I don’t seem to have one handy.”

“How unfair.  I do deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

“Hmm, now what could we do…?” His fingers tapped a rhythm as he slowly walked them up my leg, “I know.  How about, I do what I was going to do all along?  And later, we’ll talk about my cock?”

I leaned back on my hands, “I suppose it’ll have to do.  Though, I was kind of hoping for a trophy.”

He smirked and grabbed his crotch, giving it a squeeze, “Oh, you’ll get a trophy.”

His ridiculous face and totally out of character smarminess put me over the top and he took advantage of it, pushing me, weak with laughter, onto my back.  He rucked my skirt up to my waist and without a pause, slid my underwear down and off, stretching them between his fingers and shooting them across the room like a slingshot.

Lifting his head, peering like a meerkat over my boobs, he said, “Gone.  In case you get any silly ideas about putting them back on.”

“Why on earth would I aaaahhhh…”

Any further words were lost to me as he spread my legs and dove in.  There was no delicacy, no teasing build-up, no slow burn.  He went down on me like he was dying of thirst and my pussy was an oasis.  No sooner had I had that thought than I started to laugh again, finding myself extremely entertaining.  Ben stopped what he was doing and looked up at me, wanting to know what was so damned funny and when I told him, the look on his face just set me off again.

“I’m ever so pleased my technique amuses you.” He said, straight faced.

“That’s…it’s…the thing is, you weren’t using any technique I’m familiar with.  You just…went to town!”

“Yes, I did.  You’re fucking delicious.”

I bit back my laughter.

“Mind if I get back to it?”

I shook my head.

“Ready?”

I nodded.  His slender fingers tickled down the backs of my legs, making me squirm.  He took me by the ankles and raised my legs, watching my face the whole time, switching his grip and setting my feet flat on the table, knees pointing at the ceiling.  It was the most undignified position, particularly given that I was laid out on the dining room table, but I couldn’t have cared less as he buried his face between my thighs, licking, sucking and making the rudest, most exaggerated slurping sounds imaginable and I’d probably have been more amused if it hadn’t felt so damned good.  Even though he was being intentionally silly, he was still doing all the things he knew worked for me and his low, guttural grunts told me they were working for him too.  He stood up, changing the angle of his approach and holding me by the hips so he could lift me to his mouth, rubbing his face into me and then, when he could feel I was ready for it, easing his fingers inside me, rasping the flat of his tongue over my clit.  By now, I was alternately arching my back and lifting my ass off the table in a desperate attempt to get closer to him.  He pursed his lips, drawing my clit into his mouth and he sucked so hard I squealed, lifting one leg to wrap around the back of his neck so he couldn’t get away from me and he had to sit down again to oblige me.  I was nearly there, shivers running up and down my spine and then, he moaned.  It was the most satisfied, satisfying sound and it completely did me in.  Blathering something incoherent, I came so hard I smacked my head falling back onto the table.  He sat up to watch me, fingers still inside me, stroking so slowly, drawing out my orgasm until I was wrecked and had to ask him to stop. 

Sated - for now - and weak, I struggled to raise myself on one elbow and Ben offered a hand, reaching to help me up.  Lifting my hand in return, I high-fived him.

“Nice one Cumberbatch.” I said appreciatively.

He barked with laughter at my unexpected comment and then inhaled so hard that he snorted, which for me, only made the whole thing funnier.  Until suddenly, it wasn’t.  I watched his face, fine lines and creases deepening as he grinned at me.  His lips were pulled wide, delightfully uneven over his teeth and shiny, glossed with my wetness.  It made no difference that he’d just given me a devastating orgasm; lust for him flared in my gut like a gasoline driven flame.

Shuffling my skirt down and sliding off the table, I took both his hands in mine and pulled him toward me.  He stood, lifting my arms to go around his neck and leaned over me, his mouth flushed from his exertions on my behalf and even the thought of it was enough to make me swallow audibly.  I pressed my thumb to his lips, testing their plumpness.

“I love your amazing, perfect, talented mouth.”

His eyes narrowed and, slowly, teasingly, he sucked my thumb between his teeth, running his tongue around it in circles.  My fingers cupped his cheek and I slid my thumb, slick and shiny, across those perfect lips, grabbed his hair in both hands and dragged his face to mine.  Open mouthed, sloppy kisses followed, tongues twining, hard breaths and soft sighs and I felt my nipples rising when his hands stroked down my back to pull my hips into his so I could feel his hardness through our clothing.  We broke apart, panting.

“Your turn.  Upstairs do you think, or is there another piece of furniture you’d like to defile?”

He looked around the room, considering our options, “Sofa’s getting a little ‘same old, same old’ and didn’t we just have sex on the desk in my office?” He sighed, “Oh well, bed it is, I suppose.”

“Your enthusiasm is heart warming Ben, truly.” I played along. “If you need a little variety, I’d be more than happy to blow you out on the terrace but it’s a bit chilly and I’m afraid I’d be fighting a losing battle against cold weather shrinkage.”

We grinned at each other, even in our arousal, completely comfortable with our foolishness.  Sex for us was always good.  It was joyous and fulfilling.  It could also be complicated and confusing and bloody hard work, but figuring out what worked for us, and why, had been a cornerstone of our relationship from the beginning.  For as many times as it left us perplexed and curious, there were easily ten times as many nights like tonight, when we both knew exactly what we wanted, what the other wanted, and it was so damned easy to make each other happy.

“No, no, bed is fine,” he said, “I’d hate for you to have to go to any extra effort on my behalf.”

My reaction was exactly what he was trying for, his eyes glinting devilishly as he booped the tip of my nose and said, “Lemur.  Full fucking lemur!”

“You are unbelievable.”

I grabbed his hand and marched toward the stairs, dragging him along in my wake.

“Hold on, just let me turn the lights out and…”

“Fuck that.  Extra effort,” I muttered, “the nerve of some people.”

I could hear him sniggering to himself all the way up to our bedroom, where I spun him around and unceremoniously shoved him onto the bed.  He fell back, his legs dangling over the side and I bent down to pull his shoes and socks off.  Standing up and reaching for his belt buckle, I made eye contact and it was all I could do to stop myself getting the giggles.  He looked so proud of himself. 

Managing to keep my composure, I slowly drew his belt toward me and he lifted up to let it uncoil from his waist.  Staring straight into his eyes, I tossed the belt over my shoulder and leaped onto the bed, landing on top of him.  Sitting astride him, I began to unbutton his shirt.

I leaned down and placed one soft kiss right in the middle of his silky chest hair, “The way you’re looking at me right now?  The way you always look at me?  You, my love, are worthy of a little extra effort.”

I helped him out of his shirt, then slid backward, hooking my fingers in the top of his trousers and pulling them off as I went.  I eyed the front of his boxer shorts appreciatively.

“Very nice.” I said, trailing my finger along the shape of his hard-on. “It’s definitely not cold in here.”

His abdominal muscles tightened as he chuckled and I felt a flare of arousal as I gazed at his body – firmly muscled, sexy as hell, and all mine.  I finally looked up, into his eyes and even from here, I could see his pupils were wide with desire.

“I can hardly wait to get you inside me.”

He gulped, the long column of his throat exposed.

“Take your dress off.” He said hoarsely.

I took the hem in my hands and pulled it over my head, letting it fall to the floor. 

“Better?”

He nodded, “Yes.  Now let your hair down.”

I started to remove the barrette, but he stopped me, “No, not in here.  Go into the loo.”

I must have looked confused because he sat up and cheerfully elaborated, “I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go.”

Fair enough.  If he wanted to look at my ass, I wasn’t going to argue.  I turned and walked across the room, exaggerating the sway of my hips for effect.  Flicking the bathroom light on, I stood with my back to him and reaching up, took the clip out of my hair and shook my curls loose until they brushed my waist.  I looked over my shoulder to see him crook his finger, beckoning me to return, so I did.

“Could I have a glass of water please?” He asked, indicating the glass on the bedside table.

“Really?”

“Oh yes.”

I rolled my eyes, picked up the glass and repeated my walk to the bathroom to fill it.  When I got back he just pointed at the table again and said, “I’ll drink it later.”

“Can I get you a sandwich?  Maybe whip up some cupcakes?”

He shook his head, “No, too dangerous.  I don’t like you cooking in the nude.”

I did a double fingered point at my chest.

“I’m not nude.”

He sat up, “No you aren’t.  How on earth did that get past me?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s because you were staring at my butt.”

“I couldn’t help it.  It’s mesmerising.” Dropping his chin, he looked up at me, “Take your bra off though.  I prefer you nude.” He drew the word out, his low voice making it into something lascivious and raw.

As soon as it slid from my fingers, he seized me by the waist, pulling me down so I was straddling his leg.  He turned his head, brushing his cheek over my skin, cupping my breast and his eyes closed as his mouth found my nipple, one hand spread wide on the curve of my back, from my ribs to my bum, holding me to him.  I rutted on his muscular thigh, needy, eager for friction as his mouth slid, warm and open, across my chest, sucking at my other breast until the rosy tip was as swollen and firm as the first.  He leaned back, his eyes drifting from mine, down my body.

“Jesus woman, I could look at you all day long.  You’re stunning.”

“So are you.” I ran my fingers through his hair, “You’re also kind and loving and you make me so goddamned horny I can hardly stand it.  Now lie down so I can suck your cock.”

The sound he made was half laugh, half groan as he moved further onto the bed and lay back.  I leaned over him, my hands planted on either side of his hips.  Spreading my tongue wide, I bathed his shaft in saliva from root to pink, engorged tip and my hair fell over his stomach.  Licking at his fat cock, I pointed my tongue and ran it under the rim of the head, my curls sweeping over his skin and he shivered as it tickled him.

“Oh god,” he moaned, “you give great hair.”

I looked up at him and he shot me a cheeky grin.

“Stop making me laugh.  I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry.  Carry on.”

I stared at him until he flopped down flat again and I got back to business.  I knew it wouldn’t take much more for him to be distracted from being funny.  I lay beside him, my head on his abdomen and slowly slid onto his cock, swirling my tongue around his girth.  There was no hurry, now that I had him where I wanted him, and I alternated - long and lazy, wet and messy - sucking hard as I drew back and opening wide as I worked him deeper into my mouth.  As he thickened, hardening between my lips, I hummed with pleasure, the sensation making his hips jump, hitting the back of my throat and I pulled off to get a breath.

“Ben?  I want to try something.  Can you stand up at the side of the bed?”

He lifted his head.

“What, contribute to the effort you mean?”

I grinned, “Come on, get up.”

He rolled over, griping that he was never going to be able to come with all these interruptions and I slapped his ass, encouraging him to move.  He stood up and ran his fingers through his short-cropped hair, making it stand in spikes and, amused, I looked away.

“Alright, I’m up.  What’s next?”

I got a pillow and turned it lengthwise, tilting my head to the side, seeing if it looked like it would work.

“Good lord, what’s the hold up?”

“Patience Ben,” I squashed the pillow with my hand, gauging the height, “I need to get this right.”

“Right for what?  What exactly are we doing?”

I rolled over onto the pillow and looked at him, upside down.

“I’m going to lie on my back and you’re going to fuck my mouth.”

“Hurrah!”

“Ben,” I giggled, “cut it out.  I have a feeling this will require some breath control.”

He bent down and kissed me, and it felt strange, reversed, his chin bumping my nose.

“Guide me so I don’t go too quickly.”

I nodded and he stepped closer, thighs pressing against the mattress and I wiggled around, correcting my position.  His long fingers went around his shaft and I opened my mouth, letting him push inside.  My hands went back to grip his hips and he rocked, a smooth, slow back and forth, each time going a little further until I’d taken more than half his length, wetting him so he was slippery, my lips tingling from the friction.  I exerted some pressure with my hands, pulling him into me and he hissed when the head of his cock bottomed out.  I stopped him, focusing on my breathing, my tongue gliding up and down until I was ready and I brought him toward me.  The smooth, rounded tip of his penis pushed into my throat, his musky sex scent overwhelming my senses and saliva pooled in my mouth.  Ben moaned and leaned forward.  He ran his palms over me, pinching and rubbing my nipples, then spread his hands wide over my breasts, closing his fingers, squeezing the stiff little buds between them as I took his cock.  My back came off the bed, my throat opening to him and I showed him I was ready, helped him find a rhythm, a speed I could handle.  He was groaning through his teeth, low and gravelly; I could feel him shaking and knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  I wondered if it felt different to him, if it was anything like when he’d kissed me, his tongue smooth where it should be rough, if this new sensation was why I could already taste him when he pulled back and dragged his cock over my tongue.  He slid into my throat again, gasped and reared back, pulling out completely.  Panting raggedly, he dropped to his knees at the bedside.

“Jesus Christ.”

I rolled over, “Were you not enjoying that?” I asked coyly.

He gave me a look of disbelief, “It felt incredible.”

“So, why’d you stop?”

“Not ready.” He said quietly.

I moved back to make room for him as he climbed onto the bed and he crawled straight on top of me.  I wrapped my legs around his, sighing as he tucked his face into my hair, raining soft kisses over my neck and down along my collar bone.  He reached for my hands and gripped, mouth moving to mine, tongue gliding over my teeth and I held on as he flexed his back, grinding his erection against my clit.  Sharp sparks of arousal flickered through my groin and I lifted my hips, enticing, tempting him.  My lips throbbed with the intensity of his kiss and I whined at the loss as he slowly drew back, breaking off to watch my face as he pressed himself into me, holding himself up, straight armed.  Even this aroused, this wet for him, there was resistance, a deep, gorgeous pressure and I shivered in anticipation of more.  He retreated, pressed forward, retreated and then, in one long, liquid move, sank himself to the root inside me.

“Ben, yessss…” I moaned.

He stayed deep, rolling his hips from side to side, his pubic hair rough on my swollen clitoris and I dug my fingers into his back, raising my legs to anchor myself to his body.  His arms went under me, around me and holding each other, we moved as one, steamy breath on each other’s necks, moaning and biting, until abruptly, he stopped.  He dropped his head, sucking a nipple into his mouth and I lifted off the bed, pushing myself at him, aching for his strength, his hard thrusts. 

“Don’t tease me, I need you.”

Running his hand down my side, he caught me behind the knee.

His voice was rough, “Stay still, I’m going to move you.”

Lifting himself onto his knees, he carefully brought my right leg up and over and, still inside me, half turned me onto my side.  Twisting at the waist, shoulders pressed flat to the mattress, I pulled my leg up, out of his way.  His hand smoothed over my hip, across my bum and I felt his fingers where our bodies were joined.  He was touching himself and me as he slid forward and back, watching his cock spread me open.  Wrapping his hand around his thick length, he pulled out, then guided himself back, dipping the smooth, wide head into me again and again until I was grabbing at his wrist, trying to make him do what I wanted.

“Patience, my love,” he whispered, “let me.”

Frustrated but knowing he’d take care of me, I slid my hands under my head, fisting them into the pillow and gave myself up to him.  He smiled down at me, eyes bright but half lidded with arousal and he licked his lips.  Holding me by the hip, he pushed his other hand between my thighs to rub my clit and his weight shifted onto me.  He ground his groin against my ass, broad shaft filling me, almost leaving me empty when he pulled back, only to dive hard and deep and I cried out, every time.  It was glorious and I was losing myself in the heat and power of his body, his determination to give as much as he took.  His fingers left my clit, moving back, gliding over my pussy and he slowed again.  Looking into my eyes, he ran his fingertip up the crack of my bum, and leaving me with no question what he was asking for, pushed gently.

“Yes, do it.” I sounded desperate, begging for what we both wanted. “Oh god, please.”

It never got any easier.  His cock was so big already that the added girth of even one finger was enough to make me whine.  I shuddered and took a deep breath as he rolled his hips, squeezing inside me.  Fucking me with short, slow thrusts, he waited for me to relax and when he sensed I was ready, laid another finger alongside the first.  We both groaned as he pressed me wide open and began to move in earnest.  His hips slapped against my skin, his cock pounding my pussy and fingers slick, buried inside my ass.  I was so wet I could hear our bodies come together and I fought for breath, calling his name and was right on the verge of release when he let out a strangled shout, his back bowing and he shoved himself so far into me that I gasped.  His head dropped and he landed heavily on me, his cock pulsing as he came, his whole body shaking. 

His fingers slid from me as he collapsed onto the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, “I couldn’t help it.”

I rolled over and climbed on top of him.  Reaching between us, I grasped his hot, wet cock and sank onto his lap, shoving him back inside me.  I bent to claim his mouth, pushing my tongue along his as I flexed and gripped him with my muscles, rubbing my clit against his pubic bone, beyond caring how sensitive he might be.  I needed him.

“I want you inside me when I come,” I whispered hoarsely against his lips, “please Ben, can you stay hard for me?”

“Oh fuck,” he growled, hands on my hips, “yes.  Move with me, take what you need.”

I sat up and began to ride him.  Not wanting him to slip out, I stayed tight against him, undulating my hips, rolling them in circles, clenching around him because I knew he loved it.  I couldn’t take my eyes off him, the red band of arousal across his stark collarbone, the high colour in his cheeks and I reached forward to gently stroke his long, elegant throat, resting my fingers on his galloping pulse.  He swallowed against my hand and I trailed my hands down his body, braced both palms on his chest and now that I was sure, could feel him hard within me, I increased my pace.  I had been close before and it didn’t take long for the pangs of orgasm to begin flashing through me.  As I rose and fell, they flickered and hinted, like whispering voices in a dark room, tantalizingingly near.  I leaned back, moving my hands to Ben’s thighs for balance.  His hard length dragged over the front wall of my pussy and I groaned, bearing down, desperate for that mind-bending pressure to continue.  I fucked him faster, trembling in my urgency, crooning low in my throat.  He knew what I needed from him and his hips rose off the bed, driving his thick cock full inside me.  I could feel every perfect, solid inch of him drilling into me and I was lost, wailing, falling forward to land on his chest as I rode it out.  He held me, raining soft kisses on my face until I came back to him. 

I lifted my head and blew out a breath, brushing a damp curl off my face.

“Wow.”

He chuckled, “Yeah.  Wow.”

I rolled off him and ran to the bathroom, suddenly desperate for a pee.  He followed me, washed his hands, then we stood at the sink together, brushing our teeth.  We couldn’t stop grinning at each other in the mirror.

In the bedroom, I straightened the duvet, climbed into bed and collapsed onto my back with a huge exhale.  Ben cuddled up, wrapping his arm around my hips, head resting on my stomach while he drew lazy spirals on my tummy and thighs and I played with his hair.  His fingers slowed and eventually stopped.  I thought he’d fallen asleep and I yawned, wondering how I was going to turn the lights off without waking him.  He turned his head and gently pressed his lips to my navel, sneaking a look at me.

I peered back at him, “Yes?” I asked.

He started to speak, hesitated.  Started again.

“Can we, I mean, would you be upset if we didn’t, or rather if I didn’t, just for a while…”

I raised my eyebrows at him, baffled.

He hurried on, “…finish in your mouth?  Would you mind?”

“No more oral?  Are you nuts?”

“Oh, no!” He blurted, “I didn’t mean none at all.  I’m asking if we could, maybe, limit it to strictly non-crescendo?”

I snorted at his turn of phrase.

“Ben, tell me something.  Have you ever used that expression in your head before?  Non-crescendo?”

He thought for a second, “I don’t think so, no.”

“That’s good.  Because the thought of you moaning, ‘oh god, I’m going to crescendo’ is…”

We both lost it, and I was giggling so hard I couldn’t continue.  He pulled himself together and tried to explain, and honestly, I should have guessed.

“It’s great as foreplay and I know you enjoy it as almost as much as I do, but…”

I interrupted, “Not almost, I do enjoy it as much as you do.  I love the intimacy of it and it excites me, the way I can feel every tiny reaction from you.  I feel sexy and powerful, in control.”

He ran his hand over his face, “And I don’t want to take that from you, I really don’t.  But Kai, I’m never going to get you pregnant by coming in your mouth.”

“I took Sex Ed too you know.  I am aware how it works.”

He stared at me.  I pushed up onto one elbow, more serious now.

“Ben.  We’ve only just started trying.  It’s either going to happen naturally, or it’s not.  I don’t think we need to be changing anything so soon or limiting ourselves by putting expectations on every time we have sex.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” He sighed, “It’s just, once the play opens and I’m getting home late, getting more and more tired as the run progresses, not to mention everything that goes into preparing for filming right after the wedding...”

“Don’t forget, my family is going to be here too.” I added, sure this was on his list.

“Exactly.  We won’t have so much time alone, so I’m already thinking we won’t be having sex as often.” He finished.

Cupping his cheek in my hand, I answered him, “You think too much and you’re worrying about stuff that might not happen.  My Mum and Dad won’t be hanging around the flat the whole time they’re here.  They’ve already bought rail passes and want to go exploring.  Finn could only get a couple of weeks off so he’s not even arriving until the 23rd.”

He peered up at me, considering my argument.

“And as for your schedule,” I continued, “well, if you’re tired all the time, you’ll just have to learn to relax and let me do all the work for a while.  It wouldn’t be the end of the world.  I’m good at it.”

I could see the wheels turning in his mind and he shot me a sly look, “I suppose …”

He moved up to lie beside me and I rolled onto my side so we were facing each other.

“Maybe rather than stifling our sex life, my horrible schedule and your parents moving in for a month could lead to us coming up with some creative ways to be together.” He looked thoughtful, “You could come down to the theatre and seduce me in my dressing room.  Or we could spend a night or two in a fancy hotel.”

“See?  Problem solved.” I agreed.  “It sounds like it could be fun.”

He smiled at me but there was still a seriousness behind his eyes, “It doesn’t completely address the blow job question though.”

I took his hand, threading my fingers through his, “I know how badly you want this and I do too, but I think we need to take Chloe’s advice and try and make it as stress-free as we can.  We have to give ourselves some time, wait and see what happens and then, if we’re not successful doing it that way, then we’ll get serious with the whole, doctors, calendars, thermometers, we’re-not-here-for-fun-we’ve-a-job-to-do route.”

His eyes closed and he gave his head a little shake, “I’m not the only one who’s been thinking this through, am I?”

“No, you’re not.  Because it’s like this Ben, on our own, we’re both fully functioning, completely formed adults.  But as you said, together, we’re better.  You’re strong where I’m weak and vice versa.  I know how your mind works and you can read me like a book.  You are my other half, the pieces I didn’t even know I was missing until I saw them in you.  From the moment we decided that we were going to be together, every step, every move has been about one thing.  Building a life together.  So yes, I’ve been thinking about it.  The wedding, babies, buying a house.  All of it.  Our future.”

He gathered me into his arms and we kissed, long and slow.

“Happy?” I asked when we separated.

“Very.”

“Good.  Please don’t fret about what-ifs, my love.  Concentrate on the what-ares.  And in the meantime, for crying out loud Ben, just come wherever you want.”

I was right.  Making him laugh was pretty hard to beat.

 

 


	38. Fear and Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes people screw up and it doesn't matter how innocently it was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to Kat, for her truly exceptional beta skills. She's a beta ninja. You beta believe it ;)

What You Put into the World

Chapter 38 – Fear and Forgiveness

 

Ben’s phone was in his jacket downstairs so he’d set my alarm clock instead.  It jolted me from sleep at 7, a scant few hours after he’d set it and out of habit I swung my arm over, scrabbling around for it on my bedside table.  The noise stopped and I turned to see Ben, up on one elbow with the clock in his hand.

“Looking for this?”

I grunted in the affirmative and rolled over, throwing my arm around him and using my head against his chest to try to push him back down. 

“I’ve got to get up.” He objected.

“Shh.” I muttered, tightening my grip.

He took a handful of hair and tilted my face up, planting a firm, no-nonsense kiss on my lips, “My interview is at 8 and I need a shower and coffee or I’ll be no good to anyone.”

He peeled my arm from his waist and got out of bed.  I watched his naked bum flexing as he walked to the bathroom and briefly considered joining him in the shower, but he was in a hurry and I didn’t want to distract him when I knew he’d be focusing on the upcoming interview.  Instead, I made the bed, brushed my teeth and went down to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.  Popping some bread into the toaster, I was about to set the table when I remembered the last thing served on it was me, and gave it a good scrub first.  I was just pressing the plunger on the coffee when Ben came thumping down the stairs and as he walked past me, I offered him his plate of toast.

“Thanks love, but I’m not really hungry.”

“Since when?” I filled our mugs, “You’re always hungry in the morning.”

“Radio interviews make me nervous and I drank quite a bit last night.” He left the plate on the counter and sat at the table, “My appetite’s a little off.”

I picked the plate up and followed him, “Coffee on an empty stomach isn’t going to make you feel any better and why do radio interviews make you nervous?”

He sipped at his coffee, blowing across the top, “Well, any live interview.  It’s not like print, when I can take my time and clarify what I’m trying to say and they can edit later; it’s immediate and the possibility of a fuck up…” he caught himself and cringed, “or accidentally swearing, is ever present.  They always use a five second delay, just in case, but I can’t help thinking about it the whole time.”

“Still?  After all this time, all the interviews you’ve done?”

“Yes, still.  It’s like improvising a performance and frankly, that was never my strong suit.  I prefer having a script.”

Without thinking, I blurted, “Is that why you repeat yourself?”

There was a pause.

“Why I what?”

Too late, I realized that this probably wasn’t the best time to be bringing it up but now I’d said it, there was no going back so I forged ahead, “I’ve read, and watched, my fair share of your interviews.  When you’re promoting something specific, you have a tendency to lock onto a phrase or two,” I was trying to be diplomatic, “that explains some aspect of your character or the film, and repeat it.”

He ran his hand over his face and leaned on his elbow, cupping his hand around his lips and chin.

“Such as?” He asked through his fingers.

He didn’t sound as annoyed as I’d expected.

“An exploration of the dynamic of anger and disappointment in families.” I said, quoting his description of the play back to him.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’ve heard that more than once?”

I nodded, “Yeah.  The magazine article that came out a couple of weeks ago, and the piece in the Telegraph.  But you’ve been doing it for as long as I remember reading about you, before I knew you.  Has no one ever mentioned this before?”

His chin dropped and he looked up at me, smiling ruefully, “It’s a trick I use, have used, for some time, to help with the nerves and because of my tendency to ramble.  I have a few stock phrases that I can go back to, to help keep on track.   It’s not something I thought anyone noticed.”

I smiled back at him, “If it was supposed to stop you rambling, it hasn’t worked.”

He chuckled, “You couldn’t have mentioned this earlier?  Earlier than say, 10 minutes before I go on the radio?”

“Oh my god,” I jumped up and went behind his chair, hugging him, “how was I supposed to know it was news to you?  Why hasn’t Louise said anything?”

“She has,” he’d turned his head and his voice was muffled against my neck, “ages ago but then she never brought it up again so I assumed it was fine.” 

“Ben, love, it is fine; I was nitpicking.” I hurried to assure him, “Your interviews are wonderful.  You express yourself beautifully, you’re funny and your enthusiasm for your work always shines through.”

He leaned back and squinted up at me comically, “Too little, too late sweetheart.”

“I’m so sorry.  Really.”

He gazed at me, “You know, I might believe your apology was sincere if you weren’t grinning.”

I bent and kissed him, gently, “I mean it.  I am sorry.”

He kissed me back. 

“Fat lot of good that does me when I’m about to go on air.  Let go of me so I can go to my office and have a panic attack while I try and figure out what the hell I’m going to say.”

Walking down the hall, he turned to look over his shoulder and winked at me, letting me off the hook but I still felt terrible for my bad timing and tendency to talk first and think later. 

I wanted to hear his interview but I didn’t want him to feel me lurking outside the office door, so I got my phone and plugged in my ear buds.  I could hear Ben’s voice down the hallway, his landline on speaker as he spoke with the engineer, checking sound levels.  In my ear, the newsreader was reciting the usual morning list of train delays or cancellations and I stuck my phone in my pocket while I leaned on the counter and ate a piece of toast.  It wasn’t too long before I heard the announcer reminding listeners that Ben was up next and I ran down the hall on tiptoe, as quietly as possible.

Sticking my head around the door, I checked that he wasn’t speaking with anyone and seeing him sitting in his big leather chair, eyes closed, fingers clasped over his belly, I ran over.  His eyes popped open, smiled in greeting and flicked to the clock on the wall.  I knew time was short and took his face in my hands, staring into his eyes.

“Don’t second guess yourself.” I whispered, “You’ll be wonderful.  You’ll be charming and interesting and funny and I love you.”

He breathed a quiet sigh of contentment as I kissed him, silently.

I whispered again, “More coffee?”

He nodded so I ran to the kitchen, hurriedly refilling his cup and stirring in the sugar but through my ear buds, I could hear the news report coming to an end.  When I got back to the office, the host was chatting with Ben over the speaker phone, double checking he had the correct dates for when the play was running.  With the interview about to go live, I didn’t want to mess him up, so I set the cup on the desk as quietly as I could manage and backed away.

Ben reached for the cup and whispered, “Thanks love.”

“Sorry Ben?” asked the host over the phone.

As I stepped into the hallway, Ben’s reply brought me up short.

“Oh, sorry Giles.  I was just thanking my wife for bringing me a coffee.”

I froze in the doorway and snapped around to look at him as he clapped his hand over his mouth in shock, his eyes open saucer-round as Giles introduced him to the listening public.

“Ben, it’s great to have you on the show again and while you are here to talk about your new play, I have to ask, did you just mention your _wife_?”

I raised my hands, palms up and mouthed, ‘what?’.  Ben, eyes sparkling merrily, answered the question, “Did I?  That may have been a bit premature on my part.”

Giles, likely sensing the scoop of the week, clarified, “So, no secret wedding then?”

“No, it’s just my mouth getting ahead of my brain.  It’s a problem I’m well known for, as certain people have pointed out.” Ben chuckled, “I didn’t get much sleep last night and I suppose some part of me must already consider us married, and that’s the part that spoke out of turn - to clarify for my Mum, who’s probably trying to ring me right now.”

He looked up at me and shrugged and I could tell by his face he was wondering if he’d gotten away with it.  I shrugged back and waggled my hand, indicating ‘sort of’.  He grinned.

I left him alone then, to finish the interview without any further interference from me and took the throw from the back of the sofa to wrap around my shoulders, retreating to the watery autumn sunshine out on the terrace with my coffee.  It was chilly, but tucked in the corner, I was protected from the breeze by the ivy growing on the high lattices I’d installed, way back when, for privacy.

While he was on, my phone buzzed twice with incoming texts but I ignored them, preferring instead to concentrate on his gorgeous, still sleep-croaky voice as he answered question after question, mostly about the play but also a few about the film he was shooting next and a new one being released in the spring.  He did ramble, he was funny and charming and I reflected on how odd it was to be listening to him now, knowing he was just down the hall from me, that we shared a bed and a life, when six months ago I’d have been listening to this interview while I commuted to work without ever considering I might actually meet the man.  The man who was insisting on having a bloody wedding when apparently, he already felt married, I thought with a smile. 

With all that had changed, the effect his voice had on me hadn’t, and a couple of times, especially when his tone went particularly low and rumbly, I got that same little thrill.

The host thanked Ben for his time, recited the dates of the play one last time and they were back to the news. 

I was reading a text from Myra when the door to the terrace opened and I looked up, “I think that went very well, all things considered.”

“All things considered?  You mean the thing where you dashed my confidence on the rocks minutes before I was live on air?  Or the thing where I jammed my foot into my mouth and referred to you as my wife on national radio?”

“Yes,” I agreed, “that.  Both.”

“I don’t know what happened.  It just came out.”

“So you said.”

He scanned my face intently, “Are you upset?”

“Why would I be?”

He walked over and sat next to me, lifting my feet onto his lap and running his warm hands over the soles, “Well, privacy for one thing.  I didn’t mean for our relationship to become a topic of conversation this morning.”

“It didn’t.  You answered the question and changed the subject.  You recovered very well, despite your mouth getting ahead of your brain.” I grinned, “It would be hypocritical of me to criticize you for it, given that I did the exact same thing this morning.  Which, I might add, you promptly forgave me for.”

His eyebrows drew together and he looked extremely dubious, “Did I?  Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“I don’t think I did.”

“Well, if you haven’t already, you soon will.” I swung my feet over and stood up, “What else is on today’s agenda?”

He yawned, “Work out with my trainer, Louise is meeting me at the gym afterward and we’re going to another interview over lunch.  Then she and I have some scheduling to discuss and I have a costume fitting at the theatre in the afternoon and another interview this evening.”

“So, you won’t be home for supper?”

“No, I’ll be late.”

“What time do you have to leave?”

“In about an hour.”

Offering him my hand I said, “Come with me.  Let’s go kiss and make up.”

Without rising from his seat, he stuck one of his fingers in his mouth to wet it and held it aloft.

“You know, it’s not all that cold out here this morning.”

“It’s not exactly warm.”

“Perhaps not, but it isn’t,” he leaned back suggestively, “dick shrinkingly cold.”

I giggled, “That would be a great name for a character.  Dick Shrinkingly, Private Detective.”

Laughing with me, he pulled me between his knees, “Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

Reaching up, he touched his cool fingertip to my lips.  I opened, allowing him to push it into my mouth before I closed my lips around it and sucked.  He took a slightly shaky breath and gave me a smile, a devastating combination of sweet and wicked.

“Take me in your mouth and I’d be immune to a howling gale.”

I combed my fingers through his hair, recalling our conversation from the night before, “Are you going to stop me just when it gets good, or will you let me have my way with you?”

He looked up, his eyes intensely blue in the pale sunlight, “You know what you said last night, about letting nature take its course and seeing what happens?”

“Mm-hmm.  What about it?”

“The few bumps in the road that we’ve had have really only come about from second-guessing, from questioning what seemed to come so naturally, so I think you’re right.  We need to continue as we started, diving in headlong, pedal to the metal and what-ifs be damned.”

Bending down, I pressed my lips to his, soft and warm in contrast to the cool air and was surprised by how much relief I felt.  It wasn’t even the sexual aspect of the whole discussion that had worried me, though I hadn’t realized it myself until he put it into words, but he’d hit the nail on the head.  Talking about our how we felt, examining our motivations in all things, was the foundation of our relationship because it was how we learned about each other, both separately and as a couple.  But when it came down to how we actually lived our lives, we worked best when we got out of our own way and led with our hearts. 

“I’m so glad you think so.  But can you answer me one more thing?”

He smiled, “Of course.”

I knelt, the palms of my hands sliding up his thighs, “As regards the blow job question, was that a yes or a no?”

Later, while he was double checking he had everything he needed in his bag, I was on the phone with Myra.  When she’d texted earlier it was to see if I was coming in to the office because she’d gotten an email from the people who ran the food bank, asking if it was possible to move our meeting up.  I’d called to let her know I was on my way and she had asked if I could email her my notes.

“My notes are hand written, but we can go over them when I get there.   I’ll be out of here in ten minutes.”

Ben tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention.

“Hold on Myra.”

I looked at him to see what he wanted.

“You don’t have your car, remember?”

“Oh shit.” I’d completely forgotten that we’d cabbed home, and Ben was taking his car, so I’d be stuck taking the bus.  Or maybe not.  I glanced at the window, confirming it was still nice out, “Can I use your bike?”

“Of course.  The keys are in the drawer.” He kissed me and scooped his own keys off the counter, “See you tonight.”

He left and I went back to my call, telling Myra I would see her shortly then went upstairs to get dressed.  The sky was blue and it was sunny, but it was also November and even at the reduced speeds required when riding in the city, it would be chilly on the motorcycle.  I dressed in layers, leggings under a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved flannel shirt under my wool sweater.  I stuffed my laptop, phone and lunch into my pack, slung it onto my back and zipped my leather jacket up over my scarf. 

In the back garden, I pulled Ben’s bike out of the shed, climbed on and turned the key.  It had been parked for more than a month, but he went out and started it every week or so, and it fired up on the first go.  I’d ridden bigger and heavier bikes, but not for a while and Ben’s felt wide and ungainly compared to my sleek Ducati.  I put my helmet on and drove down the driveway to the street.  In a few blocks, I started getting more comfortable and was happy to be outdoors, even if it was bloody freezing as soon as I got over 40 kilometers an hour.

I parked behind the office and let myself in, going straight to the bathroom to fill the kettle and run my hands under the hot water tap.  I organized tea for us both and we got to work.  There were plenty of interruptions, phone calls from customers and staff coming in and out of the office to check schedules and drop off invoices, but we did our best to stay focused.  We went back and forth, each bringing up points the other hadn’t thought of and trying to set out a strategy that would make sense for us, from a business perspective, as well as fulfilling what we supposed to be the needs of the food bank.  She was so enthusiastic about the whole thing that she inspired me, and we kept at it until her daughter called to see when she’d be home and I suddenly remembered Jem was supposed to be dropping off my car on his way into the city. 

I dialed his number and after a couple of rings, he answered on hands free, sounding like he was shouting into a bucket, “Hiya!”

“Hey, where are you?”

“I’m in your absolutely fabulous car, Alice and her Mum are following right behind.  We should be there in about 15 minutes.”

“Jemmy, I’m still at work.  I wasn’t watching the time.”

“That’s alright, are you on your way now?”

“Even if I left this minute, it’s going to take me a while to get there and I don’t want you sitting around waiting for me.”

“We can’t be too long anyway, we have dinner reservations and theatre tickets.  What about Ben?”

“He won’t be home yet either, he has a dinner thing.”

“I could leave the keys, drop them through the letterbox or something?”

I thought for a minute and said, “If you go through to the back, there’s a shed.  The security light should come on so you can see, and ours is the last one on the left.  You can leave the keys on the stack of tires inside the door.”

“Sure, will do.  I have to tell you though, you’ve put me in an awful position.”

“Oh no, why?” I asked.

He chuckled, “Alice’s Mum was rather looking forward to meeting Ben.”

I grinned, “Sorry pal, nothing I can do about that.”

“Not to worry, I’ll make it up to her.  I guess I’ll see you on Wednesday?”

“Yes, definitely and Jemmy, thanks again for last night, I had so much fun.”

“My pleasure Maple Leaf.  Talk soon.” He said, and hung up.

Myra and I tidied our desks and walked out together.  I thanked her, pleased with the progress we’d made and feeling much more prepared for our meeting with the food bank organizers.

If I’d thought my drive in was chilly, it was much cooler on the way home in the dark, but it was still great to be riding instead of driving.  While I could never completely relax riding in London traffic the way I could on the open road, the back of a motorbike was still my happy place, and at least it wasn’t raining. 

Normally, if I was on my Ducati, I cut the engine and coasted to the back, but Ben’s bike was heavier so, despite the noise and the neighbours, I drove it all the way up to the shed door.  I found the keys right where I’d asked Jem to leave them, put the bike away and went inside to warm up in the bath.  For supper, I made a grilled cheese sandwich with a big mug of tomato soup and ate in the living room, on the sofa with a blanket tucked around my legs.  I’d lit the fireplace, brought a bottle of whisky over to the coffee table and was reading a book when Ben got home.  Coming in, he slung his bag to the floor and sighed dramatically.  He walked over to the couch, grasped my legs by the ankles and transferred my feet to the coffee table.  Then he flopped down on the couch, dropping his head into my lap.

“How was your day?” He asked.

“Great!  Myra and I got so much done.  We have our first meeting with Spencer and Jill this week and I think we’ll be ready.  How was yours?”

“I’m fucking knackered.”

“I’ll bet.  You’ve had a long day on not much sleep.”

“Three interviews in three locations, an hour and a half in the gym with Ryan and a long and painful meeting with Louise.  I thought I was only doing my costume fitting this afternoon but at the last minute, Feargal wanted to adjust some blocking for the final scene in Act Two and that meant I got stuck in traffic and was late for my last interview.” He said, sounding sulky, “My head hurts.”

“Poor baby,” I rubbed his forehead with my fingertips, “what can I do to make it better?  Did you eat?”

“Yes.” He yawned and blinked up at me, “I don’t suppose you feel at all like giving me a back rub?”

“Getting you naked and running my hands all over your sore muscles?  Jeez Ben, sounds awful.”

“I really am beat.  I can’t promise it’ll go anywhere.”

I hadn’t gotten any more sleep than he had, but I also hadn’t had to run all over the city the way he had and anyway, I enjoyed massaging him, regardless of the outcome.  It made him feel good and the whole process was relaxing, almost meditative for me.

“Love of my life, it doesn’t have to lead anywhere; if it makes you feel better, that’s all that matters.  Haul yourself upstairs, have a shower and I’ll meet you in bed.  I’m just going to make a quick phone call.”

He sat up and turned, his hand sinking into my hair to hold me still for a long, long kiss, “Don’t dawdle.”

“I’ll be right up.  Go.”

He went and I got up, damping the fireplace while I waited to see if Leah would answer her phone.  We’d exchanged a few texts throughout the day, but she was being cagy and I wanted to hear her voice.

“I’m on a date.  For real this time,” she said, “what do you want?”

I laughed, “Can’t be much of a date if you’re picking up.”

“He’s in the loo; make it snappy.”

“So, I was wondering, where did you get off to last night?  Or rather, with whom did you get off?”

She snorted, “Yeah, I thought that’s what you were getting at this afternoon.”

“It was, and that’s not an answer.”

“We shared a cab, that’s all.”

“Oh, come on!  You don’t live anywhere near each other.”

“Cabs were in short supply, it was simply a matter of convenience.”

“Leah,” I pressed her, “you’ve had a thing for him for as long as I’ve known you.”

“Yeah, but that’s me.  It takes two to tango.”

I began to think she was telling the truth, but dug a little more, “Ben didn’t seem surprised you’d left together, for what it’s worth.”

“Oh for…my date’s coming back,” she whispered, “I have to go.”

“Wait!  Did you kiss?”

“Yes.  Asshole.” And with a giggle, she hung up in my ear.

I poured Ben a large whisky and took it upstairs to see if he was out of the shower and share my news.  I asked if he’d talked to Tom.  He hadn’t, informing me as he dried off, that Tom had flown out to the States this morning and had replied to his single questioning text with, ‘Enter rumour, painted full of tongues.  Mind yer business mate.’, and a smiley face. 

I was folding back the duvet and looked over my shoulder, “Enter rumour?  Is that Shakespeare?”

He nodded, toweling his hair dry, “Yeah, one of the Henrys I think.  He’s such a show off.”

I bit my lip, “One of the Henrys…who’s a show off?”

He gave me a bashful grin and when he turned to hang his towel on the rack, I took in the broad stretch of his shoulders, the deep groove down the centre of his back and the play of muscle under his skin.  When he fisted his hands over his head and stretched, leaning from side to side, I experienced a full body shiver.  Show off or not, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on him, but watching him move his hands to his temples and rub in small circles, I could see he really was feeling lousy and needed taking care of.

I opened the drawer of the bedside table to find my body oil and my hand brushed a plastic baggie.  I’d forgotten it was in there, but thought it might be just the thing he needed to help him relax.  He’d crawled in next to me, where I sat cross legged with my nightshirt stretched over my knees, rolling a joint.  I lit it, passing it to him where he lay on his back.  He took a couple of tokes and offered it back to me, but I declined, so he took one more hit and put it out.  He lay back, slowly exhaled a nearly transparent stream of smoke and smiled.

“Roll over love.” I said.

I knelt at his side and took my time, working gently until he had a fine sheen of oil over ever bit of skin I could reach, and his breathing was deep and measured.  I found the spots that needed my attention, kneading the knots from his muscles, working my way down his legs and getting as much satisfaction from the way his body felt as he got from the strength of my hands.  I had to use extra pressure on the soles of his feet or he’d jerk away, ticklish to the extreme in this one place, so I didn’t linger, moving back up his body and twisting the heels of my palms into his glutes.

He grunted and I asked, “Too much?”

“Uh-uh, just right.”

I massaged his bum and lower back until I heard a sigh of contentment and continued up, to work on his shoulders and neck.  He’d gotten so still, I thought he was on the verge of sleep and slipped off him.  I was careful, trying not to disturb him, but he rolled over and stretched, his back arching off the bed.

“That was great.  My headache’s completely gone.”

“I’m so glad.”

“In fact,” he leered, “if you’d just come here and get on top…”

I glanced at his groin and grinned, “On top of what?  It looks to me you’re entirely too relaxed.”

“I’m not that relaxed.  Give me a minute and I’ll show you.”

My hands still tingling from his rubdown, I looked at his handsome, but sleepy face and considered it, then slowly shook my head.

“I thought you were knackered?”

“I am.  Was.  But I’ve just had your hands all over me, and I was thinking, if I feel this good, you deserve to as well.”

He reached for me but I intercepted his hands and slid my fingers between his, “I’m just happy you feel better and it’s sweet of you to offer, but frankly, I’m too tired.”

“What, you?  Too tired for sex?”

“You can wipe that look off your face Cumberbatch, it does happen.”

“When?  Because honestly, I’m having a hard time remembering the last time you didn’t want to.” He teased.

I didn’t respond immediately and his face suddenly changed, “Hang on.  Have there been times you didn’t feel like it but did anyway, because I wanted to?”

His eyes narrowed and letting go of my hands, he rubbed his face in exasperation, “When?  And why would you do something you didn’t feel like doing?”

“I’ve never done anything I didn’t feel like doing.”

“But you just said…”

I cut him off, needing to clarify, “What I meant was, there have been times you’ve initiated sex when I wouldn’t have myself.  And Ben,” I lay down on him, folding my arms on his chest, “as soon as you do, I want to.”

“Really?” He looked down at me, his chin tripling at the angle and I grinned, “Come on Kai, every time?”

“Pretty much, yeah.  I might be a little lazy and let you do all the heavy lifting now and then, but just because I might not have started it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it.  If I really didn’t want to, I’d say so.  I’d tell you if, like tonight, I was just too tired.  I’m trying to pay you a compliment, but it’s come out all wrong.”

He stared at me, blinking slowly, “What part of this was supposed to be complimentary?”

“The part where I was trying to tell you that even the things you don’t intend to be sexy, like when you were stretching in the bathroom, make me want to grab hold of you and never let go.  Or how you pick up a cup by wrapping your long, elegant fingers around it instead of using the handle.  The way you lick the tip of your finger before turning a page and how you stretch your leg out when we’re sitting on opposite ends of the sofa, just so you can feel connected.  There’s the way I catch you watching me from across a room and when our eyes meet, you give me a look that makes my knees turn to jelly.”

He started to speak but I held my finger to his mouth and said, “Shush.  You asked and I’m not finished answering.  There are so many…last night, when it was raining and you put your arm around me and held the umbrella over us.  The way you give me your undivided attention so I feel like we’re the only two people in the world.  Your fierce protectiveness and how you can be so gentle with me that I feel delicate and fragile, until suddenly I don’t, because you’ve filled me so full of your love and devotion that I’m fucking bullet proof.”

His face had softened and I pressed my lips to the centre of his chest, looking up, into his eyes.

“The simple answer to why I’ve almost never said I didn’t want to have sex with you Ben, is that I’ve almost never not wanted to have sex with you.  I love you so hard and find you so seductive that with all the things you do that aren’t intended to turn me on, the second you do something that is, I’m lost.”

He stuck his hands under my arms, hauled me up his mouth and kissed me, one hand moving to cup the back of my head and when we finally separated he said, “I love you so fucking much.”

“Hold me.  I want to fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat.”

He rolled onto his side, tucking me into the curve of his body.  Stretching over me, reaching for the lamp, he paused, looking down to where I lay with my cheek to his chest.

“Just to be clear – are we having sex or not?”

“Still not.  It was worth asking though.”

The room went dark and he hugged me, draping a leg over mine, and it was quiet, except for his contented yawn.

“Can we do it twice tomorrow then?” he asked, making me laugh.

Ben’s call wasn’t until late morning, so I was up and dressed and nearly ready to head out when he came down.  He gave me a minty good morning kiss and I offered to pop out and get him a newspaper.  He stretched, his back cracking noisily and shook his head.

“Thank you for offering, but I think I’ll go for a run before I have breakfast.  I can pick one up on the way home.”

“Good idea, take advantage of the sunshine.”

Pouring a coffee, he looked over his shoulder, “Speaking of, did you want to take my bike again?”

“I was waiting for you to get up, so I could ask if you minded.”

“Sweetheart, you needn’t ask, take it and enjoy yourself.  What’s mine is yours.”

“Yes, I know, and vice versa.” I smiled, “But if you borrowed my Ducati without asking first, I’d be annoyed.”

He grinned back, “I thought you didn’t get jealous.”

I shrugged, “Apparently, there are exceptions.”

“Interesting.  I’m not used to you being irrational.” He grunted as I poked him in the belly, “Alright, no need to get violent, I said you could take the Honda.”

Ben changed into his running gear while I finished getting ready and we left together.  He walked with me to the shed, carrying my bag and waved goodbye as I drove away.  Knowing he would be working late again, and because it was Saturday, I’d suggested Myra take a half day.  I had one job to take care of in the morning, then I’d go in to the office, letting her leave early and I was looking forward to having the office to myself.  Myra was wonderful company and great at her job, but it was important for me to keep my hand in and stay on top of all aspects of what was going on, beyond signing cheques.

I parked behind the office and went inside to touch base with Myra and pick up the keys for the work van.  We chatted for a few minutes while I brewed a pot of coffee and filled a thermos from it before setting out, promising to be back as early as I could. 

It was always a treat to see clients I’d known since I’d moved to London.  I’d had to pass some of them on to other employees, just for scheduling reasons, but there were a couple that I kept for myself, either because I was personally fond of them, like Dr. Beebe, the retired professor or because they had properties I’d designed myself and wanted to see through.  From a more mercenary standpoint, I was also aware that keeping up these relationships was going to be a key component when I began asking our clients to let us grow vegetables in their gardens, and give them away for charity.

Eloise Petersen could be difficult and really didn’t have a clue about gardening, but when she came out to unlock the gate and saw it was me unloading tools from the van, she was delighted.  She still hadn’t forgiven ‘that new girl you sent’ for supposedly killing off her ivy, and took it as a sign of good faith that I had come myself.  It mattered to her that the boss was providing her service personally.  In fact, I had two ulterior motives; first, her property was enormous and underutilized and second, her dog Pearl’s puppies were old enough to come outside now and once I’d gotten the yard work out of the way, I got to spend a very amusing half hour playing with them in the grass and letting them lick my face so I could bliss out on their puppy breath.

“They’re going to sleep the whole afternoon away after this.” She informed me happily as she herded the black and white fluff balls back into the house.

I followed her, having accepted the offer of a cup of tea, so I could explain my plan to her.  We sat at the kitchen table and I got my chance almost immediately, when she asked whether I thought the apple tree in the back corner was salvageable or if she should just take it out and replace it.

“We could try pruning it back hard again and see if it comes back, but honestly, after last spring?  I don’t think there’s much hope.”

“Is it the wrong place do you think?  Since the neighbours raised their house, it doesn’t get as much sun as it used to.”

I restrained myself from rolling my eyes.  Eloise Petersen was the only person on her block who’d protested when her neighbour had applied for planning permission, a fact she was extremely proud of, so when the approval had been granted and construction begun, she found any number of things to complain about, often, to me when I was there working. 

“The tree is just old; that back corner still gets plenty of sun.  And speaking of which, I wanted to run something past you.”

I launched into my spiel, outlining for her what I wanted to do, explaining that I didn’t have all the details yet, that it was still an idea in its infancy, but as one of the company’s most loyal and longstanding customers, that her opinion was important to me.  She wasn’t stupid, and I carefully walked the fine line between flattery and laying it on too thick.  When I finished, she sat, tapping her fingers on the table.

“And you say the actual clients of this food bank would be coming here?  To my house?”

“Ideally, yes.  You know the expression, ‘give a man a fish and he eats for a day, teach a man to fish…’?”

“Yes, of course.” She folded her arms and played with the scarf at her neck, “I’m just not sure how I feel about strangers coming here.  I do live alone, after all.”

“I understand.  Bear in mind there would always be a member of our staff with them, someone you know.  And,” I felt the need to point this out, even at the risk of offending her, “you might be presupposing some things about the people who use food banks.”

“Such as?”

“That they’re unsavory in some way.  The majority of people who use food banks are single parent families with young kids.  It can be difficult to work full time when you can’t afford child care.  A lot of them are seniors, on fixed incomes.  Or people with disabilities who have a hard time finding work that can accommodate their needs.  It’s not just providing these people with fresh, healthy vegetables.  It’s the idea of giving them an opportunity to get outside, to learn new skills, to feel like they’re contributing to not only their own well-being, but to others’ as well, because the harvest will be shared.  That’s what I’m trying to do.”

She regarded me over the table, and reached for her teacup, “Well, I certainly can’t fault your passion.  I’m sure I’ll have more questions, so let me think about it for a couple of days.”

I nodded, trying not to let my disappointment show, “Of course.  Call me any time, and if I’m not in, Myra is up to speed with everything and can answer anything you need to know.”

“Oh good, I like that Myra, she’s very organized.  And stop looking so crestfallen.  Maybe I didn’t make myself clear, but I’m saying yes,” she held her hands up to keep my excitement in check, “tentatively.  I’d like to talk it over with my son first, but I think it’s a very good idea.  I approve of people working to better themselves.”

Mrs. Petersen was old-school, not believing in anyone getting something for nothing, so while she may not be thrilled about strangers coming to her home, that they would be doing part of the work themselves was a selling point for her.  I considered that as I drove away, realizing that I’d probably have to tailor my future presentations to each customer individually and not simply rely on their better natures to convince them.  It was an interesting problem to consider and would depend a great deal on how well we knew our clients.

Myra was on the phone when I burst through the door and I stood, fidgeting impatiently in front of her desk until she’d hung up.  I explained the situation and asked what she thought.

“You’re probably right, and if so, I think the best solution is to have a staff meeting.  We need to let our people know what we’re planning anyway, and it would also be a good time to get them involved and see who they think is most likely to want to participate.  Second, we need to draft a letter outlining our proposal and make sure every customer gets one.  We might get lucky and there will be a few volunteers, or,” she made a face, “we’ll find out very quickly whether we’re dreaming and we need to start looking in another direction.  Either way, the sooner we know, the better.”

“I really wish I’d thought of this sooner.  It would probably have been helpful to have an idea of numbers before our meeting with Jill and Spencer.” I said, running my hands through my hair in frustration.

Myra smiled, “You can’t be expected to think of everything.  Look, you had a good idea and they’re interested.  But they don’t know what to expect any more than we do and no matter how well we plan in advance, there are going to be hiccups along the way.  There’s no manual for what we’re doing, we’re making it up as we go along.”

I nodded, “Yeah.  I just don’t want to be caught flat-footed and have them leave here on Wednesday thinking we were unrealistic or unprepared.”

“The whole point of meeting with them is to find out exactly what they need and whether or not we can provide it.  There’s no point driving yourself mad with details until we actually sit down with them.”

I still had my coat on, so I went to hang it up, then turned back to Myra, “The thing is, the more time we put into this, the more invested I am.  Originally, I thought it was a cool idea, a way to capitalize on something I already knew how to do and help a few people in the process.” I made my way to my desk, “I hadn’t considered how much I’d care once it got rolling.”

She laughed at me, “Of course you care.  You wouldn’t have had the idea at all if you didn’t.  But cut yourself some slack.  You’re a new business owner, you’re planning a wedding and now you’re trying to launch a charity.  Take a breath, and remember you don’t have to do any of it on your own.  In fact, I don’t need to go home.  Why don’t I stick around and we can write up that letter and figure out what date would work best for the staff meeting?”

I looked at my watch, “No, I promised you a half day, and I’ve already kept you longer than I meant to.  I’m sure you have better things to do.”

As much as I wanted her to stay, I didn’t want her to feel obligated.

“Phil’s gone fishing and my parents took the kids to visit my sister for the weekend.  The house is empty.”

“You’d have the house to yourself for once and you want to stay?  What’s wrong with you?” I teased.

She got up, hefted the kettle to see how much water was in it, flicked the switch to boil it and came over to get my mug.

“I enjoy working with you.  And, I think this whole idea, growing vegetables for the food bank, is bloody brilliant.  Besides, if I went home now, I’d only end up hoovering and doing laundry.  I’d rather do this.”

The rest of the afternoon was divided between the routine business of the day - answering phone calls and dealing with a few walk-ins - and getting the letter written.  Putting our heads together, we wrote, re-wrote and read the letter aloud until we were satisfied.  There was some discussion about whether to email it, but we decided that hard copies were better, more formal and if they couldn’t just hit delete, hopefully people would read it more than once and give the idea greater consideration.  Once we had a huge stack of the letters, Myra loaded envelopes into the printer and hit send on our mailing list.  We were planning on stuffing envelopes for every regular customer we had.  Though we knew most would likely dismiss it out of hand, we figured the more who knew what we were doing, the better. 

We worked until Phil called to see where Myra was.

“Oh god, is that the time?” She said into her phone. “I’m leaving right now.  You’ll need to start the cake for me; the recipe’s on the counter.”

She hung up and turned to me, “I’ve got to dash.  We’re going to a dinner party and I completely forgot I was supposed to be baking this afternoon.”

“Go!” I said, “I’ll finish up here and, thank you Myra.  I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” She said, putting on her coat and grabbing her purse off the hook, “Just leave it all on my desk and I’ll finish up on Monday.  Damn it,” she said breathlessly, “my bloody bus had better be on time.”

“If I had my car, I’d drive you home myself, but here,” I snatched the key ring off my desk, “take the van.”

“No, no, it’s fine…”

“Myra.  You’d have been home hours ago if not for me and no one’s going to need it before Monday.”

She nodded, “It would be faster than the bus.  Go on then.” And raised her hand to catch the keys as I tossed them.

With a wave, she was out the door and once she was gone, I forwarded the phones to voicemail so I could work without distraction.  I was in no hurry to get home myself; Ben was going to be late again anyway and I’d feel better if I made a bit more progress, instead of leaving it all for Myra to get through.  I stretched and got up for another cup of tea, then locked the front door and turned off all the lights but the lamp on my desk. 

I was still in the zone when the letters were done and decided I might as well keep going and get caught up on billing.  Myra was in the process of converting our accounting system from paper to computer, but in the meantime, I wrote cheques to suppliers and prepared invoices for clients and it was all very peaceful in the darkness, with quiet music coming from the ancient radio on my desk, and the sound of cars whizzing by in the rain.

“Oh fuck.” I muttered, clueing in to the sound.

When I’d left in the morning, it had been clear and bright, and like an idiot, I hadn’t bothered to check the forecast.  At some point while I’d been absorbed in work, London had returned to its regular programming and it was absolutely pissing down rain.  I didn’t have any of my gear with me and was going to get soaked driving home.  I considered leaving the bike and taking a cab or the tube, but Ben was busy enough right now without having to drive me back to pick up his Honda.  He’d do it without question, but I didn’t want to have to ask him.  There was nothing for it, I’d just have to suck it up and take it slowly.  It would be slippery on the roads and I’d have to be especially watchful for cars not seeing me in the poor weather conditions.  There was no point in putting it off, so I cleared my desk, bundled up as best as I could and set out for home.

It was fucking atrocious.  I was being drenched from the top down by the rain and from the bottom up by every car that sprayed a wave of puddle water over me as it went past.  I was only part way home when the skies opened and what had seemed like a deluge already, became positively biblical.  Sitting miserably at a red light, I noticed I was directly across the street from Carlo’s, a restaurant that Ben and I loved and went to often. 

I considered my options: continue on in the downpour to an empty flat, with an empty stomach, or stop for a meal and some company.  It looked so cozy and inviting, and I could practically taste their incredible pizza from where I sat.  I quickly shoulder checked and whipped a U-turn, drawing a few honks from the surrounding cars, but when there was a parking spot right in front, I decided it was meant to be and I’d feel guilty later for making motorcyclists look bad.  I’d have something to eat and maybe I’d get lucky and the rain would let up in the meantime.

I stepped through the doors and shucked my helmet and soggy leather jacket, inhaling the warm, steamy air, redolent with basil and garlic.  The place was packed, but Carlo noticed me right away and came over to greet me with his traditional three kisses, his gigantic moustache tickling my cheeks.

“You’re on your own tonight?  Where’s Ben?”

“The play opens this week; he’s rehearsing.”

“So, you came to me; be still my heart!” He said, making me laugh.  “Give me a minute, I’ll find you a seat.”

Carlo was old enough to be my grandfather and an inveterate flirt whose wife Maria ran the kitchen and was tolerant of his habits, at least until they extended to pouring himself a glass of wine and joining a table of beautiful women.  That’s when she’d make an appearance and playfully scold him in rapid Italian before sending him back to work.

He went to the long bar where he good naturedly shuffled customers down to make space for me at the end, and offered me a stack of clean bar towels to dry myself off as best I could.  I went to the bathroom, twisting water from my hair and re-braiding it, making myself presentable.

“I’ve just opened a bottle of that red you like; can I get you a glass?”

After the drive I’d had, I felt like I could use a drink, but knew it was a bad idea, “I’d better not.  I’ll have a soda with lime please.”

While he poured he asked, “Do you need a menu or would you like your usual?”

The ‘usual’ for me was my own concoction - spicy capicola ham, mushrooms and black olives, with a dusting of crushed red chilies on top – that after a single taste, Ben, eyes watering, had refused to ever try again.  I loved the heat and tonight in particular, it would hit the spot, so that’s what I ordered.

As I turned in my seat, reaching into my bag, I looked out over the room and what I saw gave me pause.  Everywhere, faces were lit by blue-white light as people scrolled screens and generally ignored their dining companions, more intent on photographing their food than enjoying it.  I quickly pulled my hand out of my back pack.  I might be eating alone, but I didn’t need to distract myself with technology.  With Carlo there, who told wonderful stories and rarely seemed to take a breath, I’d feel rude anyway and if I got desperate, someone had left a newspaper folded up on the bar.

It was a busy Saturday night and the place was jammed.  No sooner would a table clear than it would be filled with new customers and the staff kept plates of food on a steady stream out of the kitchen.  Carlo managed to oversee everything while still entertaining me and I took my time over my pizza, eating as much as I could manage since I couldn’t exactly carry a pizza box home on the bike in the rain.  I kept one eye on the front window, hoping the weather would let up, but it was getting late and I finally had to admit it probably wasn’t going to and asked Carlo for my bill.

I shrugged my damp coat back on, popped my head in the door of the kitchen to thank Maria and blew a kiss to Carlo on my way out.  The remainder of the ride home was just as miserable as the first part had been.  It wasn’t just the wind and rain; the roads were treacherous and I had a couple of scares when the back tire refused to hold the pavement and skidded, jarring my body as I shot my leg out to catch myself and making me reduce my speed further.  By the time I turned onto our street, I was soaked through, freezing and fantasizing about a hot bath with a side of whisky. 

I’d left the restaurant fully expecting to get home to an empty house so was pleasantly surprised to see lights on in our flat and framed in the window, the unmistakeable silhouette of Ben.  I zipped straight to the back, parked the bike and was walking up the driveway when he came catapulting around the corner at a dead run. 

He stopped in front of me, “Are you alright?”

Pulling my helmet off I looked at him - no coat and in his stocking feet - with rain bucketing down on his head.

“I’m fine.  What are you doing out here?”

He leapt forward, grabbing me by the arms and bellowed in my face, “Where the fuck have you been?”

I was shocked by his fury and the volume of his voice and I tried to pull away but he squeezed harder and wouldn’t let me move, “I…I was at work then I stopped for something to eat.” I squeaked.

“Jesus Christ!” he roared, shaking me, “I have been calling you for hours.”

Even through the layers of my clothing, he had a death grip on my biceps, “Ben,” I said, my heart thudding in my ears, “you’re hurting me.”

He heard my distress and immediately let go.  His arms fell to his sides and he took a step back, looking utterly defeated and I didn’t know what to say, but this time, it was me who moved forward.

“You’re getting soaked,” I reached out, “let’s go inside.”

He turned on his heel, and stalked away. 

I had no choice.  I went after him, following him up the stairs in silence.  He went in the door of our flat and for the first time in memory, didn’t hold it open for me.  I came in behind him and was surprised to see Elise in the hall, putting her coat on.

“Hi.  What are you doing here?”

“I was keeping Ben company.”  They hugged and then she leaned back and ruffled his wet hair affectionately, “Call me tomorrow, or anytime, alright?”

Ben was behaving bizarrely and Elise seemed strangely subdued.  With a stab of fear, I thought of his parents.

“Is…did something happen to Tim or Wanda?”

She gave me a look I couldn’t interpret and Ben shook his head, muttering, “No.  Jesus Christ, you are unbelievable.”, leaving me baffled.

I watched him walk up the stairs to the bedroom, his back still rigid with anger.

“Elise, what the hell is going on?”

There was no mistaking her expression this time and before she’d said a word, I was feeling like a teenager who’d just been busted sneaking in after curfew.

“Where were you?”

“At the office then at Carlo’s for a pizza.  He wasn’t even supposed to be home; why’s he so angry at me?”

“There was some technical problem at the theatre so the cast were sent home early.  He’s been trying to reach you since, I’m not sure, I think he said 4?”

I glanced at the clock.  Half past nine and me on a motorcycle in the rain.  Now it was starting to make sense.  I bent down, dug my phone out of my pack and tried to turn it on.  Not a flicker; the battery was dead.

“Shit.  So, he called you?” 

“Kai, I think he called everyone when he didn’t hear back from you.  Between the weather and the motorbike, he’d started to work himself into a bit of a state, so I came over to sit with him.”

“Goddamn it,” I sighed, “I had no idea.”

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t supposed to be home or that I’d had no reason to expect him to be looking for me.  He’d known I was on the bike and if the situation had been reversed, I knew how I’d have been feeling. 

“I’m going to go.” Elise said, “I’m glad you’re alright.”

We hugged and I mused, “It’s almost worse that I am.  At least if I’d hurt myself he couldn’t be mad at me.”

She waited a beat, raised an eyebrow and said, “I wouldn’t say that to him, if I were you.”

“I’m inconsiderate, not stupid.”

That at least got me a smile and I said goodnight, locking the door behind her.  I hung my wet coat up, unlaced my boots and peeled my sodden socks off my feet.  I took another look at my mobile, trying to imagine what he must have thought.  I went up the stairs, shivering with cold and dread at what I was walking into. 

The tub was filling and Ben was leaning in, adjusting the water temperature.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are.” He stood, folding his arms across his chest and snapped, “I on the other hand am fucking furious with you.  How could you not think to call me?”

I kept my distance.  I could feel the emotion radiating from him and if anything, his now outwardly calm demeanor only served to rattle me further.

“You were supposed to be late.” I kept my tone even, neutral, “It didn’t occur to me that you’d be looking for me.”

His eyes narrowed, his chin jutting forward in disbelief, and he growled, “Don’t you dare try to put this on me.”

“I’m not!  I promise you, I’m not.  I take full responsibility; I’m only trying to explain.”

I was at a loss.  If he was too irate for explanations, I didn’t know what else to say or do that wouldn’t make the situation worse.  He was staring at me and I tried to look back at him, to let him see that I understood and how sorry I was, but his steely anger was too much and I dropped my gaze to the floor.  We stood in silence until a shiver ran through me, strong enough to be visible and he exhaled slowly.

“Get those wet things off and have your bath.”

He brushed past me and I reached out, catching him by the arm, “You’re wet too.  Come in with me.  We’ll get warm and we can talk.”

“No.  I have to phone everyone we know and tell them they can stop looking for you.  Alice went to your office to see if you were there.  Leah’s been calling anyone she could think of and Jem?  He’s been phoning every hospital in fucking London so I could keep my line clear in case you were trying to call me back, which clearly,” his voice was cutting, bitter, “was a complete waste of time.  So, no, I won’t be joining you.”

In frustration, he’d lashed out.  I’d hurt him and he was sharing that pain, making me feel what he was feeling.

He pulled away and slammed the door shut behind him while I stood there, sick to my stomach and feeling like I was trying to swallow a bowling ball as I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back the tears because if he heard me crying, it would only make him feel worse.  He didn’t deserve that.  I stripped down and got into the tub, turned the taps off and sank into the warmth, right up to my chin. 

Through the door, I heard his muffled voice, “Yeah, I will and Jeremy?  Thanks for everything, mate.”  Then silence.

I soaked and tried to figure out what I was going to do. Normally, when we argued, I fought back.  Hell, sometimes even when I knew I was wrong, I’d stick to my guns, out of sheer bloody-mindedness.  This was different. 

I’d been blindsided by his reaction when he ran out to the driveway, not understanding what had led to it.  Now I’d realized that his anger wasn’t because I hadn’t answered his calls, but because when I didn’t, he had no way of knowing whether I was O.K.  If the circumstances had been different, if I’d had my car or the weather hadn’t been so dire, I knew he wouldn’t have been nearly so concerned at not knowing where I was for a couple of hours.  But tonight, between the rain, the motorcycle and me being incommunicado, he’d begun to imagine the worst. 

I was kicking myself now for my holier-than-thou attitude at the restaurant, when I’d refused to get my phone out just to be contrary.  Perhaps if I’d realized then that it was dead, I might have twigged to the idea that I had messages, and could have plugged it in long enough to check.  More than anything, I felt terrible for not thinking, for not considering that even if he had still been at the theatre, he would worry. 

Now that I could feel my toes, I thought about washing my hair, but I was only putting off the inevitable and couldn’t imagine sitting alone in the bedroom waiting for me was improving his mood at all.  I pulled the plug, toweled off and undid my braid, fluffing my hair so it would air dry.

I didn’t have anything to put on so I tied a fresh towel around myself and went into the bedroom.  Ben, still in his wet clothes, was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at the phone in his hands.  I went and sat next to him, half expecting him to jump up and walk away.  His damp shirt was cold against my shoulder, but I didn’t dare move, since he hadn’t.

“There was a problem with the sound system at the theatre and Feargal decided to let the cast leave early to make up for yesterday.” He spoke quietly, not looking at me, “I texted you to let you know and see if you wanted to go out and eat.  Then while I was driving home it started to rain, so I called to ask if I could come pick you up.  When you didn’t answer your mobile, I tried you at the office.”

“I’m sorry, I’d forwarded the office phone so I could work in peace and I didn’t realize my cell was dead.”

He didn’t acknowledge me, just continued talking.

“I waited for a bit, thought maybe you were on your way but then it was five, then half past, and I hadn’t heard from you.  Then it was six,” his voice was rising in volume, hoarse, as he experienced it all again in the re-telling, “and I tried Jem, and Leah, and she got hold of Charlie and Chloe.  At six thirty I called them all again, rang David and Elise on the off chance you were with her, and I kept trying you, calling and texting, over and over and it was getting darker, and the fucking rain just wouldn’t let up.”

I put my arm around him, running my hand up and down his back, listening to what he’d gone through and desperately needing to soothe him, to try and make it better.

“That’s when Elise came over, and Alice offered to go and see if you were at the office, if maybe something had happened.” 

“Ben…”

“I couldn’t leave to go look for you in case you came home and I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

“I’m sorry.”  I tried to take his hand, but he yanked it away.

“Don’t.” He finally looked at me, not turning his body, but it was something, “Jeremy and Leah tried to help, calling anyone we could think of.  No one had heard from you in hours and I felt like you’d just fallen off the face of the earth.  I couldn’t stop - why the hell did I encourage you to take my bike in the first place?  If you weren’t in an accident, what else could have happened?  I even rang Louise, to ask if…” he swallowed and shook his head, “the later it got, the more time passed, bloody hell Kai, you can’t imagine what I was thinking.”

I wanted to tell him how sorry I was, how terrible I felt for putting him through this, but then his voice broke as he said, “I felt so useless, helpless, just sat here, losing my mind hour after fucking hour.”

My eyes filled with tears, guilt and sorrow at what he’d gone through washing over me and I no longer cared how furious he was or that he couldn’t even bring himself to hold my hand.  Lifting his arm out of my way, I slid onto his lap.  I took his face in my hands and when he tried to pull away, I refused to let him and kissed him, once, light as air, on the lips.  Closing his eyes, he gave in, stopped fighting me, and I kept going, kissing his chin, the stubble on his jaw, my lips moving gently over his face until we were cheek to cheek.

I whispered, “I’m so, so sorry.  It’s just a word and it doesn’t begin to say what I need you to hear, but I know you were afraid and it’s my fault and I will never, ever be so thoughtless again.”

I felt the most incredible relief when he brought his arms up, wrapping them around me and he held me so tightly I could hardly breath, but now that he’d come back to me, I was damned if I was going to protest.

“I’m sorry about the way I grabbed you,” he said, his lips brushing my neck, “when I came outside.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t even have to say it Ben, I know.”

“The thought you might have been injured, or worse, was bad enough but,” he said quietly, his voice rough, “it was the not knowing that got to me.  I felt like I was going mad.”

“I know.  And I understand.  But I’m alright, and I’m here now.”

“If anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I know that too.”  I sat up and ran my fingers through his hair, holding his head and making him look at me, “But nothing is going to happen to me.  It can’t.  I told you, your love makes me bullet proof.”

The corners of his mouth barely lifted, but I could see the smile in his eyes, “If only that were true.”

“It is true.  As long as you love me, I’m safe.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips to my collarbone, “Then you’ll be safe forever.”

When he looked up at me, our eyes met and my breath caught in my throat.  He brought his hand up, his fingers curling around the back of my neck and bringing me closer, for a kiss so gentle, I melted into his arms. 

His full lips covered mine, his tongue tracing the shape, coaxing my mouth open, pressing in, seeking mine and as they met, he moaned.  The sound raised goosebumps on my skin and my hands clenched in the fabric of his shirt.  He kissed his way to my jaw, gliding down my throat and my head fell to the side, allowing him access.  His breath was warm, mouth open, sucking and licking and I shivered when he spoke, his voice a low, luscious rumble.

“Oh my god, your skin…”

My hands spasmed on his back, instinctively drawing him closer, his hair soft on my cheek.  Skin tingling, alive with anticipation, I felt a jolt as his mouth left a hot, damp trail of kisses to the hollow where throat met collarbone.

“Please…” I whispered.

“Anything, my love.  You can have anything.  How could I possibly deny you?”

His words had an unintended effect, making me wonder whether he’d really forgiven me, or was just so thankful I was unharmed that once his anger had abated he’d let me push my way back in. 

“Ben, I want this – you -  but,” I hesitated, “if you’re still angry, I’ll understand.”

“Beautiful girl,” the first true smile of the night lit up his face, “if you’re planning on giving me the ‘don’t do anything you don’t feel like doing’ speech, you can save it.” His face softened and he held his hand to my cheek, “I need this, to touch you this way.”

Bending over him, I pressed my lips to his and held him there, sharing his breath but I had to feel his body against mine and I unbuttoned his shirt, sliding the still wet fabric off his shoulders and he shrugged free of it, mouth never leaving mine.  I wrapped my arms around him, his skin cool where the cloth had touched and he reached up, working my towel free until I was naked in his arms.

He stood, lifting me with him and when I leaned back, he caught me, brought me closer, not ready for our kiss to end.  His hands slid down to the small of my back and he circled his hips, his tongue in my mouth gliding slowly back and forth. 

I trailed my hands down his torso as I sank to my knees, fingers catching in the top of his jeans.  Just above his belly button were two thin lines, faint furrows from where his skin creased when he sat and I tongued back and forth along them, tasting salt and feeling the fine hairs there rise under my lips as I worked the damp denim down his long legs.  I put my arms around him as his hand came to rest on my head, caressing my hair and I nuzzled along the sharp jut of his hip bone, seeking the most delicate spot and opening my mouth to suck, hearing his breath hiss through his teeth as I left a mark on his pale skin. 

My lips came free with a wet pop and he sighed as I rubbed my nose along the trail of darker hairs that led me lower, inhaling his scent.  Lightly scraping my fingernails over his bum, around his hips, I took his penis in my hands and stroked, looking up at him.  I loved how it felt when he hardened as I touched him and I held him to my lips, rubbing his cock back and forth across them until his eyelids fluttered, then I opened, taking in the warm velvet of the head.  I sucked, drawing him deeper, my thighs reflexively squeezing together at the feeling of him bumping the back of my throat, the stretch at the corners of my mouth as he swelled and stiffened.  His fingers tugged at my hair as I suckled, and when I eased back and pressed against his frenulum he groaned, fluid pearling onto my tongue.

His grip on my hair tightened and I looked up to his eyes, glazed with arousal.  He smiled and slowly shook his head.  I let him slide from my lips and he took my hands, brought me to my feet and wrapped himself around me, his cock trapped, rigid, between us.  He didn’t move until his breathing evened out, then he kissed my forehead, turned and untucked the bedding.   We lay face to face, my palm to his chest, fingers teasing his nipple, playing with his chest hair and his hand tickling and caressing, sketching shapes down my back, over the curve of my hip and along my leg, reversing and repeating until I was sighing into our kisses and he put his long fingers around the back of my knee, lifting it to rest on his thigh.  I wound my arms around his neck, pulling myself tightly to him, desperate to keep my kiss-swollen lips joined to his.  

His hand slid between my legs and my breath stuttered as he touched me.  Feather-light, there and gone, teasing until I thought I’d lose my mind and whined, pushing into his hand and _there_ …

“Ohh,” I sighed, “yes.”

Until that moment, we had been, uncharacteristically for us, quiet.  We had sighed and moaned in approval and encouragement but mine were the first words spoken.  Moving in slow motion, as though we were submerged in honey, every kiss, caress, change of position so focused, done with such clear intent, it was as though we were having a silent conversation.

I thought I’d lost you.

Forgive me.  

I love you, I love you, I love you; suffusing each other with it, our meaning as clear as if we’d tattooed the words on each other’s skin.

My hips jumped, back arching as he dragged the tip of his finger over my clitoris, pressed into my crease and electricity flashed down my spine.  He leaned over me, rolling me onto my back and his leg slid down, curled around my calf, spreading me open. Gently pinching the hood of flesh surrounding my sensitive bud, he rolled it between his fingers and I grasped his arm with one hand, the other dug deep into his hair as his lips found my nipple and seized hold, sending tendrils of intense pleasure through my whole body.  He sucked, dragged the flat of his tongue over me again and again and with agonizing patience, he slid his fingers inside me and curved them upward, the ball of his thumb rolling circles on my clit, until I clenched around his fingers, my body trying to draw him deeper.  His cock was hot, stiff against my thigh as he rutted, grinding on my leg and my core ached with an emptiness only he could fill.  My grip on his hair tightened and he looked up at me, not letting go of the nipple that stood so high and hard that his lips around it made a perfect pout. 

I exhaled a shaky breath, “Oh my god you’re beautiful.”

He smiled, sucked harder and my legs began to shake.

“No,” the word coming out as a low groan, “I want you inside me.”

Easing his fingers from me, he lifted himself up, and over, his weight pinning me to the mattress.  His warm, soft mouth found mine again and he barely moved, but I was so ready for him it was enough and his shaft slipped between my wet folds, sliding back and forth over my clit.  I ran my hands down his sides and held on, fingers splayed wide, thrilling to the ripple and flex of the muscle beneath his skin.  He slid down toward my feet, then his back curved and I opened my eyes to watch his face when the wide, blunt head of his cock nudged my entrance.  His eyebrows drawn together, mouth falling open in a moan, he looked like he was in agony, but one he that craved, and he pushed into me.  I let my legs fall open, my hands on his lower back urging him deeper.  He withdrew, staring into my eyes, and I gasped as he thrust hard, bottoming out with his hips tight against me.  I moved my hands to his broad shoulders and he worked his arms beneath me, tucking his face into my neck.  I bore down, tightening around his girth and he let out a silky growl, the most delicious, satisfied, ‘mmmm’, that I felt as much as heard.

“I love you, I will love you, forever.” I whispered.  And once more because I had to say it aloud, “If I ever thought I had lost you I don’t know what I’d do…I’m so sorry I scared you.”

“Shh my sweet, I believed you the first time.” He reached up, brushing my hair from my face, “No more apologies.  Kiss me, and let me love you.”

Our mouths met, heated and fierce, and I twined my legs around his, clinging to him as we moved together.  My hips rose to meet him and every long, hard thrust felt like he was claiming me as his.  I truly did lose myself in him, his body hot and sweat slicked as he surged into me, stretching me, filling me, making me whole.  I cried out, gasped for breath, dizzy with the smell of his skin, his strength and the low, liquid moans that signalled how close he was to release.  I threw myself against him, arms around his shoulders and sucked at his neck, nipping at the straining sinews until his cadence faltered and he swore.

“Fucking hell, oh Jesus, not yet.” His weight shifted, hand slipping between our bodies and his rhythm slowed, stabilized, “You… I need you to…god damn it,” he groaned, pleading, “come for me.” ~~~~

I closed my eyes and held on tight, every thick, solid inch of him pounding into me, his deft fingers finding their mark, his breath rasping in my ear and I was gone.  Arching and trembling, howling his name, my fingernails raked his back and he sheathed himself as deep as he could go, throbbing as he came, wild animal growls bursting from his throat until he collapsed.

I stroked his back, petted his hair and kissed him over and over and over again.  My muscles spasmed and he moaned softly, the continuing movement of his hips a pale reflection of what he was capable of, but I loved it, delighted in the intimacy of it, even after what had come before.

He raised himself on one elbow and looked into my eyes.  His pupils were still huge, the thin circles of his irises pale, almost no-colour in the low light and I watched as his eyes narrowed, creasing with a sweet smile.

“You are…I mean, that was,” he faltered and gave up, “I’ve forgotten how to speak.  I think I’ve blown a circuit.”

“I take back every time I ever tried to deny you were perfect.” I said.

His lips curved into a crooked grin, “Impressive.  It’s barely taken me five months to convince you.”

“Yeah, but to be fair, you cheated.”

He bent down and playfully butted the tip of my nose with his, bringing his lips in line with mine and kissing me tenderly, “I most certainly did not.”

“Of course you did.  You made me fall in love with you in three days flat.  I never stood a chance.”

One eyebrow shot up, “Oh, be serious.  You’re the most determined, willful person I’ve ever known.  If you didn’t want to fall in love with me, you simply would have decided not to, and I’d never have stood a chance.”

I giggled and put my arms around his neck, “I may be stubborn but we all have our weaknesses, and you’re mine.”

“And you, my brilliant, gorgeous, wild woman, are my mine.  How strange and wonderful that you’re also my strength.”

 


	39. A Study in Contrasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever heard the expression, 'Love means never having to say you're sorry'? Total bollocks.  
> Love means not holding a grudge. And ice cream. Love definitely involves ice cream.

What You Put Into the World

Chapter 39 – A Study in Contrasts

 

Ben had to leave for rehearsal straight after breakfast, so we’d taken separate vehicles and met up in the queue.  There was always a line at this carbohydrate heaven of a restaurant on Sunday morning and we’d been waiting for about half an hour already.  There were still a couple of parties ahead of us, though one was a group of six, so we’d likely be seated before they were.

Every time the door opened, the smell of coffee and baking bread wafted through the air and despite the weather, I was enjoying the wait. 

I tucked my face further into Ben’s chest.  His arms around my shoulders tightened and I knotted my fingers together behind his back, asking, “You sure you’re not cold?”

It was a silly question.  When the breeze had kicked up, wintry and full of damp, I’d jammed my bare hands into my pockets and seeing, Ben had unbuttoned his coat, wrapping it around me so I was snuggled up with him and cocooned in his heat.

He kissed the top of my head, “No, not at all.  This is nice.”

Wearing flat boots meant I had to crane my neck to look up at him, “Yes, it is.”

His cheeks were slightly red from the chill in the air, his cap pulled down low on his forehead and he looked gorgeous.  I stood on my toes to reach his lips, his nose cool where it bumped my cheek. 

He checked his watch.

“Are you going to have enough time to eat?”

Nodding, he answered, “Yeah, it’s still early and I already know what I want.”

“Spinach and mushroom frittata, extra sausage?”

He grinned at me, “Maybe I’ll have something different, just this once.” His eyes flicked over my shoulder.

I chuckled, “No, have it.  I’ll get the pancakes and you can have half.”

“Only if you eat some of mine, otherwise I’ll be in a food coma all…” he changed gears mid-sentence, his voice sharpening as he said to someone behind me, “look, do you mind?”

I turned to see a woman from the larger group in front of us drop her hand, with cell phone, to her side.  Face flaming with embarrassment, she mumbled an apology and ducked behind her friend.  I looked up at Ben.

“What?”

“That’s not like you.” I whispered.

“She should have asked first.  Honestly,” he spoke quietly, for my ears only, “it’s so rude.  Taking a photo of me on the street is one thing, and comes with the territory.  Taking one of us, is completely different.  It’s an invasion of your privacy and that’s not allowed.”

Pulling my hand away from the warmth of his back, I held it to his face, “My knight in shining armour.”

“Are you taking the piss?”

“Not even a little bit.” I stroked his cheek, “We both know I can take care of myself but that doesn’t mean I don’t kind of get off on it when you go all caveman on my behalf.”

A look flitted across his face, dark and uneasy, gone so fast I thought I might have imagined it.  He gathered me into his arms and I felt him take a deep breath, and exhale.  He was about to speak when the door opened and the hostess called out, ‘Macbeth, for two.”

We got to our seats, placed our coffee orders and opened our menus, even though we both had an idea what we were having.

“God, it smells good in here.  Maybe I’ll take a pass on the pancakes and just order an entire loaf of their sourdough.  With a pound of butter.”

He grinned, “I’ll get sourdough toast with mine and you can have a piece.”

“Pancakes with a side of toast for breakfast?  Speaking of food comas.”

“You could always go home and have a nap after we eat.  Or did you have plans?”

I sighed, “I’m planning on driving all over the city delivering bouquets, boxes of chocolates and abject apologies for all the trouble I caused last night.”

He gazed at me across the table and reached for my hand, “It was an innocent mistake that got blown out of proportion because I overreacted.”

“You had an emotional response to the situation, which was entirely justified, and I don’t think anyone could blame you for it.  I, on the other hand…”

“Kai,” he cut me off, “stop beating yourself up.  If you feel the need to make your apologies to our friends, then do.  As it happens, in the same position, I probably would too.  But I meant what I said this morning.  As far as you and I are concerned, it’s done and dusted.”  

Earlier today, I’d laid in bed watching him sleep.  Even before opening his eyes, he’d stretched out a hand, looking for me.  Lacing my fingers into his, I’d lifted his hand to my lips and told him again how sorry I was. 

“You apologized last night, and I accepted it.” He’d said.

“I know.  And you haven’t had time to think about it, but I want to be sure you understand - I got it, and I won’t let anything like that happen again.”

He’d sat up, “You didn’t do it intentionally and next time, you’ll touch base so I know you’re alright.  If I didn’t understand that, I wouldn’t have accepted your apology in the first place, but I have and that’s the end of it.”

“Are you sure?”

He’d smiled and kissed my hand in return, “I’m as sure of that as I am of you.”

So, I knew he wasn’t harbouring any ill feelings, but I still felt I had to make things right with everyone else.  Aside from my sense of guilt, I was terribly embarrassed by the whole kerfuffle on my behalf. 

The waiter returned with our coffees, took our food orders and when he’d gone, I picked up Ben’s phone.  He leaned on the table, chin in hand and stared at me as I flicked screens.

“Where’s yours?”

“If I said it was on the counter at home, would you kill me?”  I stared back, my face the picture of innocence.

“Is it?  Really?”

“No, it’s in my pocket.”

“Ever heard the expression, ‘too soon’?”

I smiled and he asked who I was calling.

“No one.  I’m going to take a picture of that lady.” I said, holding up his mobile in the direction of the table her group was now seated at.

“No!” He snatched for the phone, “You’re bloody not.”

Leaning back to get out of grabbing range, I said, “Of course I’m not.  Jesus.  I’m checking the call history to make sure I’m not missing anyone from my apology list.” A name caught my eye, “Why on earth would you think Louise would know where I was?”

He sat back, his fingers rubbing the arm of his chair, “I wasn’t thinking straight.  I was in a bit of a panic and she’s who I used to run to when all hell broke loose, before I had you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

I had plugged my phone in to charge while we’d gotten ready this morning, but I hadn’t turned it on yet to see how many calls he’d made to my number.  I wasn’t even sure if I’d be able to listen to his messages, to hear his increasing desperation when I didn’t answer.  I slid his phone back across the table.  

“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to sound so shirty.”

“You didn’t.  And, I hope that if you ever fuck up in anything like the spectacular fashion I did, I’ll be able to handle it as gracefully as you have.  You’re such a grown up.”

He laughed and changed the subject.

“Are you still determined to come on Wednesday night?”

The run opened for previews on Wednesday and he kept trying to talk me out of going, repeatedly asking if I wouldn’t rather wait until the press night, when all the kinks had been worked out.  I kept explaining that not only was I going to the first preview, but that he couldn’t stop me from seeing it as often as I’d like.

“Yup, and you’d better make sure to put Jem, Alice, and Leah on the list as well.  Charlie and Andy are going to be out of town, but I’ll bring them on another night.”

“You’re going to come to the first night, and the press night, with Charlie and Andy and then again when your parents are here?” He asked.

“That’s right.  And I’ll probably come again with Finn when he gets here and I’ll bring Liam and Chloe when they can swing a sitter.  Hmm,” I tapped my fingernail on the table, “I wonder when David and Elise are going?”

His eyes creased in a warm smile, “You don’t think you might get tired of it?”

“Tired of watching you perform?  Not a chance.”

“After helping me learn my lines, you already know the script as well as I do.”

“Yeah,” I’d grinned, “and you’re still stumbling over that long passage in the first act so I’d better be there in case you forget anything and need prompting.  Besides, I think it’ll be interesting to see what changes from the beginning of the run to the end.”

He shook his head, “You really are stubborn.”

“Yes, I am.  Four tickets for Wednesday night and stop trying to change my mind or I’ll get cross.”

“Fine, four tickets, consider it done.  I wouldn’t want to annoy you.”

Our breakfast arrived and I waited until the server was gone before I said, “Speaking of being cross, I discovered something last night, about you, when you’re angry.  Or about me, I guess.”

He said nothing and I looked up from my plate to see him frozen in place, in the middle of flipping his napkin onto his lap.

“You cannot be serious.”

I leaned closer, “If you’re asking if it turned me on, the answer is no.”

“That’s a relief.  What was this discovery then?”

Both of us had lowered our voices, not quite to a whisper, but being careful not to be overheard.

“I was going to say,” I cut my stack of pancakes and put half on a side plate, pushing it over to Ben, “I can now state categorically, that when you’re that angry?  It’s absolutely the furthest thing from sexy that I can imagine.  I think I might still find it exciting if it wasn’t directed at me, but when it was, it was horrible.”

Pouring syrup on his half-stack, he said, “That’s because you felt guilty.”

He stated it so matter-of-factly that I took a moment to consider my answer, spearing a forkful of eggs off his plate, “Good, but needs salt.” I commented, before answering, “As for feeling guilty, I didn’t; not at first.  At that point, when we were still outside, I had no idea what you were even upset about.  What I know now is, you weren’t at all what I would have predicted.”

“Which was?” He asked, sprinkling salt over his food.

“Based on previous experience and my own very active imagination, my expectation would have been, intimidating and dangerous, yet oddly hot.”

“I can’t complain, because I reap the benefits, but I’m still not sure I completely understand this thing you have for me when I’m like that.” He covered his mouth with his hand and now he did whisper, “The ‘Benedict’ thing.”

“I don’t either, not really.” I held my cup to my lips, “Though, the angry thing and the Benedict thing are slightly different, I’m just not sure I could tell you how or why.  But I can’t control how you make me feel, any more than you can stop yourself from being turned on by my submissiveness.  In our daily life, not only would I not let you push me around like that, but it would never occur to you to try.”

Grinning, he paused with his fork part way to his mouth, “Even if it were in my nature, I wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s an interesting thought though.  Maybe it’s because those personas are so different from our regular selves, so it’s like role-playing?”

“Or,” he frowned, thinking, “they’re the parts of ourselves we normally suppress.  In your daily life, you’re confident and bold, a force of nature.  But you’re so much more than that, so wonderfully, compellingly complex.  That submissive side of yourself?  I don’t think trust is the only reason no one but me ever sees it.  It’s what you keep hidden from the rest of the world because that particular facet of your personality might stop you from forging ahead, from fulfilling your ambitions and being successful.”

I was intrigued, “Now, there’s a thought.”

“As for me, what’d you call me earlier?  A caveman?  It’s one thing if that part of me rears its head where you’re concerned, whether we’re messing around or if I’m being protective, like with that woman in the queue, but if I behaved that way all the time, can you imagine the reaction?” I nodded, impressed by his observations on this lazy Sunday morning, and he went on, “I’m not a chauvinist, I believe in equality between men and women, but I can’t deny that caveman thing is a part of me and it’s complicated because feeling protective of your loved ones is one thing, but acting the tyrant and bossing people about is quite another.  If I gave that side of myself free rein in an interview or on set, my reputation would be shot.  I’d be fucking crucified.”

I licked syrup off my finger and took his hand, “And that, my love, is why we’re such a good fit.  When we’re together, we can both let our guard down and be everything we are in that given moment, without judgment.”

His thumb made circles in my palm, “Exactly.  I trust you completely, to accept who and what I am.”

“I have a question.  How do you explain why we’re both just as comfortable in the opposite roles?”

He smiled, “No idea, and much as I’d love to keep talking about it, I’ve just noticed the time.  I have to run.”

He was looking for our server, to get the bill.

“I’ll take care of it.  You go ahead, I’m going to have another cup of coffee and prepare myself for my Great Apology Tour.”

Standing and taking his coat from the back of his chair, he leaned over to kiss me goodbye and I watched him jog past the front window.  My cup topped up, I got my phone out to text Jem, Leah and Elise to see if they’d be around, and ask if I could drop by.  Watching the numbers on my voicemail and text alert climb, I knew I couldn’t listen to them here; I had to be alone to cross that bridge.  I took a quick look to see if there were any messages from this morning, sent the texts I needed to send and once I’d finished my coffee, paid for breakfast and left the restaurant. 

My favourite flower shop was within walking distance, but I’d have my arms full on the way back, and it was still bloody freezing, so I drove instead.   Elise answered me first, and at a red light, I checked her message.  She and David were out for the afternoon with their kids and she said she’d call me later.  By the time I’d found a parking space around the corner from the florist, I’d heard back from Jem and Leah, both of whom were free.  Jem and Alice were having a quiet day in, watching movies and not going anywhere.  Leah was at home, working on a story and asked if I was coming by anyway, could I bring her something to eat?  When she was deep into research, she might disappear for a week or more, traveling to meet sources or do interviews.  Once she was writing, she’d hunker down at home and had been known to live off pot noodles for days at a time, strictly rationing her tea bags since she couldn’t be bothered to leave the house until the piece was done.

I went into the shop and said hello to the staff, turning down their offer of assistance.  I preferred to wander the store and put my own arrangements together, picking stems from many different buckets, ranunculus, daisies, freesia and a few more exotic things like orchids or a bird-of-paradise.  I personalized each one, and Elise’s was easiest, since every time I’d been to her house, she had an arrangement on her hall table and it was always in shades of pink.  I chose cheerful yellows for Alice, Jem got orange and dark red, and for Leah, a mix of purple and acid green.  The girls behind the counter wrapped each one for me, laughing when they asked if it was a special occasion and I explained they were ‘I messed up and I’m very sorry’ bouquets.  There was an amazing chocolatier a couple of streets over and I went there next, choosing 4 boxes of assorted dark chocolate truffles and remembering as I swiped my card that I still hadn’t gotten around to checking my account balance.  I’d had so much on my agenda lately that I’d been letting some of the day-to-day things slide, like banking and laundry, and the fridge at home was looking pretty dire too, other than my hot sauces and Ben’s vast collection of English mustard.

I put the chocolates in the back with the flowers and hopped into the driver’s seat.  Jem’s was the first stop and traffic wasn’t bad so I was knocking on his front door just before noon, a box of chocolates under each arm and carrying their arrangements.  He answered the door and I started giggling.  He was wearing the pyjamas I’d given him for his birthday last spring.  They were meant to be a joke and I never expected him to actually wear them, so it never failed to make me laugh when he did.  They were bright blue, and decorated with fat, dancing chefs wielding knives, rolling pins and various other kitchen implements.  It was nearly impossible to take him seriously when he had them on.

“Hello.”

“Hi Jem.”

“Why didn’t you let yourself in?”

I gave a one-shouldered shrug, “Felt a bit presumptuous, considering.”

“I told you we were having a lazy day, and yet, you’ve made me get off the sofa.”

“You could have shouted to me to use my key.” I looked around, waiting, and finally asked, “Are you going to let me in?”

“Haven’t decided actually.”

“Jeremy, for crying out loud, you’re letting all the heat out!” Alice appeared and brushed past him, sweeping the door open in invitation. “Come in Kai.”

I stepped inside and Alice shut the door behind me. 

“I’ve come to apologize.” I said, indicating the flowers I held.

“You scared the hell out of everyone.” Jem said, crossing his arms and leaning on the wall.

“I know, and all I can say is, I had no idea what a flap I was causing, and I’m sorry.”

“I suppose you might as well come and sit down.” He grumbled, and turned to go back to the sitting room.

Alice took the flowers so I could take my coat off and as I hung it up I said, “Ben told me what you did for him, going over to my office.  Thank you.”

“It was the least I could do.  He was frantic and once Jem heard the details, he got so wound up, I wouldn’t have let him drive.  I’m going to put these in water; there’s tea on the table and I’ll bring you a mug.”

I went down the short hall and sat in the arm chair across from Jeremy, putting the chocolates on the side table.  He was hard to read, not really giving off an angry vibe, but definitely not his usual self.  Alice popped in, deposited my cup on the table and I reached for the teapot.

“So, what happened, exactly?”

“Last night?”

He made a face, “No, on the 10th of August.  Yes, last night, you numpty.”

Yesterday, while in the bathtub, I had heard Ben call to tell Jem I was safely home, but that was before we’d talked and he hadn’t known the details, to be able to share them.  Alice came back with a vase full of flowers and sat with Jem on the sofa, tucking her feet under her bum.  I took a sip of my tea and explained how my day had played out.

“And that’s it really.” I concluded, “If I’d realized my phone was dead, or not stopped for pizza, it would have saved everyone a lot of worry.”

Jem was leaning back with his arms folded over his chest, “Aside from your phone and the pizza, did it really not occur to you to touch base with Ben at any point?”

I had both hands wrapped around my mug and I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, “No, it didn’t.  First of all, I had no idea he’d gotten off early.  And we did used to call or text fairly regularly throughout the day, but lately?  He turns his phone off when he’s at rehearsal so I usually only hear from him on his breaks.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question and honestly, the fact you were riding a motorcycle and the weather was shit is sort of special circumstances.”

Looking down, I swirled the tea in my cup, watching the patterns in the dark liquid, “I’m not making excuses, I know I should have called him.  The thing is, for the last little while, I’ve been making a conscious effort to not bother him unnecessarily, because he’s got enough on his mind, and frankly, so do I.  Between our work, the time I’m putting in to get this charity off the ground, his schedule with all the publicity he’s doing for the play and non-stop meetings, not to mention the seemingly endless technicalities of wedding planning, we have a lot on our plates.  Besides, he’s actually home every night for once, so rather than a bunch of silly messages throughout the day, I leave him be, unless it’s important.”

I looked up and Jem’s demeanor had completely changed.  He’d moved forward until he was perched on the edge of the sofa and he looked concerned.

“Is everything alright between you two?”

Taken aback, I couldn’t help laughing, “Yes!  We’re better than alright, we’re great.  Doing the play, this is the longest chunk of time he’s been home since we met, and we’ve finally been given a chance to settle into a routine.  We’re just really busy right now, and - look, we do touch base a few times a day, even if it’s only to decide who’s cooking supper.  Last night was an aberration; I had a lot on my mind and I fucked up.”

Alice nudged him with her elbow, “See, I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jem rolled his eyes and said to me, “It does make sense, with him being around more, you’ve relaxed a bit.  I guess I’m used to the two of you being in each other’s pockets all the time, so to hear you say you were intentionally giving him space, I just wondered.”

“I appreciate you asking, but honestly, everything’s fine.  As for last night, I owe you both an apology and a huge thank you for all you did for Ben.  I’m sorry you got pulled into it, and for scaring everyone but I’m grateful that he didn’t have to go through it alone.”

“You should have seen Alice.”

“Jem,” she warned, “shush.”

“Ben couldn’t get me on my mobile either, so he called the restaurant and got Alice first.  She sent me to my office to take his call and by the time we’d hung up, she’d called Bonnie to come in and take the rest of her shift, had her coat and hat on, and was ready to go out looking for you.”

She was blushing, “I could tell how worried Ben was, and like I said, once Jemmy knew what was happening, he’d be in no fit state to drive and I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.  Anyway, you’d do the same if the situation were reversed.”

“The situation would never be reversed,” I said ruefully, “because in my position, you’d have thought to call someone.  It was very kind of you Alice, which doesn’t surprise me because that’s you all over.  Ben was so touched by what you did for him.”

“It’s no secret that I think he’s wonderful and if it helped at all, then I’m glad.  For what it’s worth, I think you went a bit overboard with the flowers and chocolates though.  You made a mistake, that’s all.”

“I could take half the flowers and one of the boxes of truffles with me if it’d make you feel better.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Jem leapt up, snatching both packages.

We finished our tea and confirmed our plans for later in the week, deciding what time to meet for dinner before going to the theatre. 

They walked me to the door and when Jem and I were hugging, he said, “Just so you know, Leah’s in full lock down.  She sold the article she’s working on to a magazine in the States on spec and yesterday, she got an email asking if they could have it a month early.”

“Oh shit.  She did ask if I could pick up a few things for her, but didn’t say why.  Thanks for telling me.”

I left Jem’s and made a couple of stops on my way to Leah’s, picking up some food and a couple of bottles of wine to grease her creative wheels.  I had my hands full, tromping up the four flights of stairs to her flat and had to knock with my foot.

“Were you trying to kick it down?” She asked, answering the door.

“Sorry, didn’t have a hand free.”

“Wow, when I asked for food, I didn’t expect this!”

I set the bags on the counter in the kitchen, “I won’t keep you, Jem’s told me about your deadline.  Let me show you what I brought and I’ll get out of your hair.”

I knew she wouldn’t bother with anything complicated when she was writing, so I’d gotten an assortment of cold cuts and cheeses, some fruit and a baguette.  In case things got desperate, I’d also bought her a few ready-meals, so she wouldn’t have to resort to pouring boiling water over flavourless noodles in a Styrofoam cup.

“Oh, this is fantastic!” She said, already plying the corkscrew, “Stay and have a bite with me, I need a break anyway.”

Leah ran off to have a quick shower while I put her flowers in water and got together a platter for us to share.  We sat on the bed in her bright one room flat, had a glass of wine and ate, while I gave her the same run through I’d given Jem and Alice.   Leah hadn’t been in a serious relationship for a long time; there were a few men she saw on a fairly regular basis but she dated whomever and whenever she liked, and expressed little interest in settling down.  Having always lived on her own and being incredibly self-reliant, her perspective was different from Jem’s.  She said understood, to an extent, why Ben had reacted the way he had to me being ‘missing’, but even more so, why I hadn’t thought to call him, musing that it took time for an independent person to get used to the idea of someone worrying about them.  On the subject of independence and, further, whether or not I thought Ben was possessive, she pushed me harder.

“Well, he is, and he isn’t.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Possessive isn’t really the right word, at least, not the way you’re talking about.  He would never try to keep me from my friends or tell me where I can go or what I’m allowed to do.” I chuckled, “He has been known to get jealous but when he does, he’s disgusted with himself for it, and I can take the mickey without him losing his temper because he knows it’s silly and he has nothing to worry about.”

I topped up her wine glass and helped myself to another slice of apple while I thought about how to explain it to her, “He’s careful about making sure we spend enough time together but it’s only because of his schedule.  With the amount of travelling he does, and the length of time he has to be gone, it’s a very real concern.  He starts filming in the Czech Republic ten days after we get married, and already it’s looking as though he’ll be away for at least half of next year.  In the spring and summer, my busy seasons, I don’t know how often I’ll be able to travel with him.  He isn’t the only one who’s nervous about how that’s going to affect our relationship.”

“That part makes sense to me.” She hesitated, sipped from her glass and said, “You know I love Ben, but I’m your friend first.  You were only out of contact for a couple of hours before he started calling us, and I see why he was worried, but I kind of felt like he was overreacting.  It’s not like you were dead.”

“He didn't know that.  I wasn’t answering my mobile, the office phone or responding to emails.” I said, enumerating the points on my fingers, “It was dark, rainy, windy and more to the point, he wasn’t just scared I’d been hurt, he felt responsible.  Not only was I on his bike, but he’d encouraged me to take it.  And I know you’ll find this difficult to wrap your head around Leah, but he’s in love with me,” we grinned at each other, “and it’s not possessiveness to be afraid your fiancée has been hit by a car.”

With a huge sigh, she flopped onto her back, “Did Jem tell you which story it is that I’m trying to get finished?”

I shook my head and she explained, “The one about the lady whose daughter was killed by her ex-husband, and her campaign to have domestic abuse laws changed to make it harder for convicted spouses to have contact with their families after they’ve served prison sentences.  As you can imagine, the research has been horrific and I think it’s started to colour my way of looking at things.”

Taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze, I said, “I’m sure it’s taken a toll on your thinking but you can’t possibly believe it applies to me and Ben.” 

“No, of course not.  It’s me who’s overreacting now.”

“Yes.  But I kind of love you for it, even if it sounded like you think he’s a jerk who never lets me out of his sight.” ~~~~

“I don’t think that,” she said emphatically. “I can’t actually picture him being controlling that way.”

“Not that way, no.”

“What’s that face?  What am I miss…oh!” She looked scandalized, which was no small feat where Leah was concerned, “Oh, my god.” 

I gave her a sly smile, “Seriously, it’s the hottest fucking thing you can imagine.”

“I don’t want to be bloody imagining it!  Alright, on that note, you have to go.  I’ve work to do and I have to bleach my brain first to get that image out of my head.”

She saw me to the door and as I put my coat on I asked, “Speaking of hotness, what happened with Tom?  For real.”

She blew out a breath, huffing her fringe off her forehead, “I don’t know.  Probably nothing.  We’d spent a lot of time together at the party, we danced and talked and when it was winding down, he asked if I wanted to share a taxi.  He was a complete gentleman the whole way home and when we got here, he actually asked if he could kiss me goodnight.” 

Making a ‘carry on’ gesture with my hand, I encouraged her to tell me the rest.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever asked before.”

“Was it good?”

She smiled, “It was, yeah.  He said he’d be away for a week but wanted to know if he could call me when he gets back.  It’s a bit surreal, you know?”

“Tell me about it!” I choked out through my laughter. “Keep me posted, maybe we can double date.”

“Get out.”

Warming up the car, I checked my phone to see if Elise had gotten back to me, but with no message from her, I went home, put her flowers in a vase and hid her chocolates, truffles being irresistible to Ben.  There were still a couple of hours of daylight left and while it was gloomy, it wasn’t raining, so I got changed and went for a run.  It was a bit of a struggle.  Besides having had a huge breakfast, I’d also shared lunch with Leah.  I hadn’t been working out much and could feel my conditioning had slipped.  Forcing myself to do my entire circuit, both on and off the main paths, I switched playlists on the return journey to something heavier, to kick up my energy level. 

The flat was a tip, so I did a little housework, stopping short of dusting, and made a mental note to ask Ben about the cleaner he used to have.  I showered and dried my hair, then, not needing a real meal, I scrounged in the fridge for a snack.  Getting lucky, I found the remnants of some nice cheeses, a jar of olives and a bunch of red grapes.  I poured a glass of red to go with it, tucked a box of crackers under my arm and made for the couch.  We’d both been out all day and now that I’d stopped moving, the flat felt cool and a bit damp but it seemed silly to heat the whole place for one person, so I’d decided to take my food upstairs and read in bed. 

By the time Ben got home, I’d eaten, taken a nap, and was now lying on my stomach, pillows piled under my chest and book propped against the headboard.  I looked over my shoulder as he tromped up the stairs and, without slowing, came over and climbed on top of me.  He reached around with both arms and hoisted himself up, pressing me flat beneath him.

“What are you doing?” I laughed into the pillow.

He tucked his face against my neck, “God, I’m glad that’s over with.  Tech rehearsals are entirely necessary, but they bore the hell out of me.” He stretched, “I’m so happy to be home.”

“That’s great,” I wheezed, “but do you have to be happy on me?”

“It’s where I’ve wanted to be all day.”

I managed to turn my face to him, “That sounds perfectly reasonable, if you overlook the fact that a) you still have your coat on, and b) I can’t breathe.”

He lifted his head, “But you love it, right?”

We looked into each other’s eyes and a smile crept over my face, “Yeah, I do.”

He kissed my cheek, “I’ve had entirely too much caffeine today.  I need to move or I’ll never sleep.  I don’t suppose you fancy taking a walk before bed?”

“Has it escaped your notice that I’m already in bed?”

Grinning, he answered, “No, but I thought if I asked nicely, you might be tempted.”

“If you really need some exercise, we could just stay here and, I don’t know, Google extreme sex positions or something.”

He laughed, “Please?  Just to the shop around the corner and back.  I want ice cream.”

I thought about it.

“Is it cold out?”

“Freezing.  But I’ll bundle you up with one of my scarves and we’ll walk quickly.”

“Oh, alright, fine.”

He leapt off me before I could change my mind, and I got out of bed, going into the loo to tidy myself up.

“Could you find my cream coloured sweater please?” I stood on my toes and leaned on the counter to get closer to the mirror, swiping mascara onto my lashes, “The one I wore the weekend we went to Brantley.”

He didn’t answer me.

“Ben?” 

“Christ.”

I turned my head and he was standing right where I’d left him.

“What?”

“I didn’t realize that’s all you had on, under the blankets.”

I was naked, but for a pair of black lace underpants. 

“I thought I’d leave something on, for you to take off me.  Are you going to find my sweater?”

“I should take a picture so you can see how beautiful you look; the curve of your bum and the line of your legs when you’re on tiptoe.”

Still leaning on the countertop, I waited as Ben came into the bathroom.  He stood behind me, and ran his hand down my back. 

I held his gaze in our reflection, “We don’t have to go out.  Let’s stay in and fuck.”

He grimaced and said, “The words trip from your tongue like poetry.”

In the heat of the moment, he could practically set my ears on fire, but when I talked dirty in somewhat less charged circumstances, it could make him come over all prudish.  Far from putting me off, it only encouraged me because I found it hilarious and I wasn’t going to let his sarcasm slow me down.

Dropping my chin, I looked through my lashes, staring into his eyes, “Romance has its place and no one is better at it than you are, but sometimes, I don’t want to make love.  Sometimes,” I pushed my hips back until I made contact, “I want to fuck.”

He pretended disinterest, but I saw his Adam’s apple move as he made an effort to swallow, “Maybe I have no interest in _fucking_ ,” he said, as though the very idea offended him.

“Since when?” I turned around, hopping up on the counter and putting my legs around his slim hips, “I’ve always gotten the impression you enjoyed it.  And while I have nothing against making love,” I palmed his cock, “there is something to be said for going at it like animals.”

“But I like going slow.  I like showing you how much I care.”

I closed my fingers around the shape of him through his trousers, and squeezed.  His nostrils flared as he inhaled.  Despite his protests to the contrary, I was turning him on, and I kept going.

“Yes, you do.  Soft kisses, being gentle and taking all the time in the world to get me ready, sucking my nipples, and ever so slowly testing me with one finger…then two?  It’s fantastic, and I certainly have no complaints, but tonight, I don’t want that.”

“Why not?” His arousal was evident in the roughness of his voice, “It sounds pretty good to me.”

“I had an interesting conversation today about the difference between possessive and protective and it’s been on my mind ever since.  Sweet, gentle Ben is my heart and soul, but caveman Ben?  I get wet just thinking about him.” I sat up, putting my other hand around the back of his neck and my lips to his ear, “I want you to twist your fist into my hair and bite me.  Hold my wrists behind my back and fuck me so hard I see stars.”

I leaned back to assess the impact of my words.  His eyes narrowed and he put his hands on my butt, pulling me against him and I threw my arms around his neck for leverage.  Our mouths met and I mashed his lips against his teeth until they came open and I sucked his tongue into my mouth, nipping at it.  He groaned and lifted me off the counter, carrying me back to the bedroom, falling onto the bed with me above him. 

“What else?” He mumbled against my lips, grinding his denim-clad groin up against me, “What else do you want?”

“You.” I said breathily, “I want you.”

He was trying to pull his coat off without breaking our kiss, but with me on top, he couldn’t work it free.  I took his hands, further hampering his efforts.

“And I want ice cream, damn it.”

He just managed to turn his head before snorting with laughter at my petulant tone.

Looking down at him, I said, “I can’t help it.  You should never have mentioned it.”

“I’m reasonably certain I could make you forget all about it.”

“I don’t know Ben.  The siren call of Caramel Cone Explosion is pretty powerful.”

He got his arms around me and grabbed my bum, “The siren call of your ass is nothing to sneeze at either.”

We got the giggles, which usually didn’t mean the end of things but for now, by mutual agreement and the force of ice cream craving, it was.  He helped me to my feet, found my sweater for me and I sent him downstairs so I could dress without interference.  I met him in the front hall, where he wound a scarf around my neck and buttoned my coat over it.  The wind had picked up again and the skies had cleared, so it didn’t feel much like ice cream weather, but my new coat kept me toasty and I kept switching sides to warm first one hand, then the other, in Ben’s.  He tried to grumble that it was slowing us down, so being in a contrary mood already, I began to draw it out, making him stop for a make out session every time I changed hands and we almost missed the shop because of it.  We had to sprint the last block and got there just as the owner was coming out from behind the counter with the keys in his hand to lock up.  We got our ice cream and headed back.

As we turned the corner at the top of our street, I said, “The good news is, it’s so cold out, it won’t have melted.”

He shot me a look from the corner of his eye, “That’s if we hurry.  If you keep up your shenanigans, we’ll have milkshakes by the time we get home.”

I stopped in the middle of the pavement.  “Shenanigans?  How dare you.”

He didn’t even slow down, calling back over his shoulder, “You heard me.”

I caught up to him and twined my arm through his, “I will have you know, that was foreplay.”

“Was it really?  Which part?” He asked, conversationally, “Getting me riled up and then laughing at me?  Giving me a semi and then putting on three layers of clothing?  Or walking so slowly I’m freezing my blue balls off?”

“How can I not laugh?” I asked, laughing, “You’re so funny.”

“I’m so glad you think so.”

“You are, you’re silly and kind and the sweetest man I know; that’s why I love you.” I sped up and turned, jogging backward, “You’re also totally gorgeous and have a huge cock.  That’s why I want to fuck you.”

He struggled to keep a straight face, “Don’t start that nonsense again.”

“Start?  To hear you tell it, I never stopped.  And I am wearing three layers on top but down below?” I held up my finger, “One.”

“Watch out behind you,” he cautioned, grinning as I narrowly missed a post box, “and what does that mean?”

“Commando.” I announced, turning and making a break for it.

I might have actually beaten him inside, but for the fact that he had the house keys.  I had to wait for him on the front stoop, and he charged up the path seconds behind me.  We kissed, laughing again, clouds of warm breath rising into the air.  Inside, I opened the closet to hang my coat.  Ben dropped the carrier bag of ice cream on the floor and put his arms around me from behind.

“Commando you say?”

I shrieked as his hand plunged into the front of my jeans, encountering nothing but skin.  He kissed and licked at my neck, the tip of his nose cold but nothing compared to the chill of his frigid fingers pushing into my slit.

“Oh Christ, your hand is like ice.”

“Should I stop?” He asked.

“No, I kind of like it.”

“Me too.” He said, his other hand sliding under the layers of my shirt and sweater, and my goosebumps got goosebumps.

I reached over my head and sank my fingers into his silky hair while his tongue swept up my neck and he nipped my earlobe.  I arched my back, pushing my bum into his groin and with my free hand, undid my jeans.  He shoved two fingers lower, rubbing my clit between them, and I sighed, my head falling back to rest on his chest.

“This is no good.” He muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

He chuckled, “You’re so hot, you’ve already warmed my fingers right up.”

“Yeah…how is that not good?”

“I was enjoying the contrast.”

He gently slid his hand out of my jeans, turning me to face him and our mouths met in a rough, messy kiss.  I managed to get his coat unbuttoned and he shrugged out of it, pulling away from me.

“Go on up, I’ll be right there.”

I took a handful of his shirt and tried to pull him with me, “Leave it.  Come on.”

Taking my wrist in his hand, he closed his long fingers around it to stop me, “I’ll be there in a minute.” He grinned devilishly, “Go get naked.”

Before I let go of his shirt, I went up on my toes and kissed him again, “Hurry up.”

I ran up the stairs, shedding clothes as I went.  Hopping into bed, I listened to the sounds of him rustling around, then coming up to join me.  He was carrying one of the containers of ice cream, and a spoon.

“Um, Ben?  I don’t really want that right now.”

“I do.” He said, going straight to the bathroom and returning with one of the bath towels. “Could you move?”

Sliding over, I watched him lay the towel lengthwise on the bed, “What’s that for?”

He cocked an eyebrow, “Eating ice cream.”

I looked from his face to the ice cream and back, “Off me?”

“Yes!”

I still hadn’t moved. “Won’t that be a bit cold?”

He went to the thermostat, pushed a few buttons and turned back to me, “Ta da.”

“And sticky?”

“I’ll lick up every drop.  Now get your splendid arse onto the towel.  Humour me.”

“Oh, alright.” I grumbled.

Setting the container on the bedside table, he began unbuttoning his shirt, “Why are you being so obstinate?  I thought you’d enjoy something a bit different.”

“I’m sure I will,” I arranged myself on the towel and lay back, “it’s just, I thought I was being clear.  Occasionally, I only require the bare minimum of foreplay, then I want to get down to brass tacks.  This is one of those times.”

Tossing his shirt and starting on his jeans, he leered at me, “So what you’re saying is, you’re gagging for it and I’m taking too long?”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, yes.”

“And that’s making you cranky.”

“I’m not cranky, I’m needy.”

“Which is making you cranky.”

“Ben, if you’re going to absolutely insist on drawing this out, could you maybe, I don’t know, shut up and get to it?  The sooner you get moving, the sooner I get what I want.”

“Do you know, I’m beginning to suspect you’re in something of a rush.” He said, positioning himself between my legs with the tub of Honey Vanilla in one hand. “What about what I want?”

I was trying not to laugh, “You wanted ice cream, and you have it.  You wanted me naked, and you have it.  You wanted me on a towel so you can indulge some weird, dessert based fantasy, and you have it.  I, meanwhile, am actively restraining myself from simply climbing on top of you and taking what I need, so tell me again how you aren’t getting what you want?”

“You talk too much, you know that?”

I burst out laughing and then he was up, off the bed, “Oh for crying out loud, what are you doing now?”

He came back out of the closet with a handful of ties, “I don’t trust you to continue actively restraining yourself, so I’m going to assist you.”

It occurred me to me, as I watched him carefully bind my ankles and secure them to the bed frame, that if I was in any sort of rush, bringing up dominance might have been an error in judgement.  Moving up to do my hands, he stopped to give me a kiss.

“Mmm, that’s nice.” I crooned.

“Yes, isn’t it lovely when we take our time?” He asked, unwinding my arms from his neck and holding my wrists in his hands, “Above your head, or out to the sides?”

“Depends how long you’re planning to keep me like this.  Over my head isn’t as comfortable.”

Considering his options, he glanced down, “Does make your tits look sensational though.”

“My tits are always sensational.”

“You make a very good point.”

Lifting himself up onto his knees, he stretched and leaned to the side to begin fastening my wrist to the headboard.  I only had to lift my head to reach him, lipping at the shape of his penis through his boxers.  His hand came down to stroke my hair and I exhaled slowly, breathing hot air through the fabric and felt a tremor in his thighs.  He made quick work of my second arm and, now that he’d finished, slid back down the bed to take in the view.  He’d done this before, strapping me into an ‘x’ shape, tying me down, open, and until he’d applied enough attention to my body to distract me, it used to make me self-conscious.  Now however, my body and more importantly, my mind, knew what to expect – to a degree – and any nerves I still experienced were more of the anticipatory ‘oh, this is going to be good’ variety.

“That’s better.” He said, smiling up at me.

“This is going to take ages, isn’t it?”

“It wasn’t going to, but since you complained so much, it absolutely is.”

“And you’re going to eat every bit of that, aren’t you?” I asked as he picked the ice cream up and rolled the container between his hands.

He nodded, “I think I might, and if you don’t stop whinging, I might experiment with gagging you too.”

“With a tie, or your cock?  Because, given a choice…”

He reached for another tie and I shut my mouth, but he had another idea in mind.

“Lift your head.”

Wrapping the silk around my eyes, he blindfolded me.  The cloth was narrow so I could still make out light and his shape if I looked down, but not enough to know what he was doing.  He lay on top of me. 

“Open your mouth.” He said, touching the chilly spoon to my lower lip.

I took it, letting the first spoonful melt on my tongue and he took a mouthful himself, then pressed his lips to mine.  The tip of his tongue was still warm, pushing against my lips until I opened, tasting the sweet creaminess in his mouth, the cool middle of his tongue gliding over mine.

“You’re delicious.” I said.

He touched the container to my ribs, making me jump.  He held it to my skin until I shivered.

“Your nipples are so hard I can feel them against my chest.”

“I’d like to feel them against your mouth.”

He said nothing, and I knew he was waiting for something.

“Please?”

Giving in, he obliged me, kissing his way down to my breast and taking a firm nipple between his lips.  He’d left enough slack in my bindings that I could arch my back, lifting to him and he mashed his face into my breast, sucking hard.  I could hear the scrape of the spoon against the cardboard tub as he scooped up more ice cream, holding it in his mouth and latching on again.  It started warm, his lips pulling at the stiff peak, then suddenly, the blob of ice cream was on my skin and I gasped.  I had enough room to get closer to him, but with his weight on me, no way to pull away.  As quickly as it had been there, it melted and he licked the remnants away before doing the same to the other side.  It was extremely pleasurable; the contrast between the heat of his skin, his mouth hot, then cold, slowly warming again once he’d swallowed. 

He changed position and it got quiet.  I wondered what he was waiting for when suddenly, an icy droplet hit my skin, making me shiver.  It was soon followed by the rest of the spoonful, and quickly, his tongue, chasing after it.  Now that I knew what to expect, he indulged himself, no doubt grinning at how I squirmed in anticipation as the dollop of frozen goodness slowly slid from the metal, to land with a plop and rapidly begin to melt, sliding down my side where he’d catch it, lapping it from my skin.  He’d feed me another mouthful then pull the cold spoon away, touching it to my throat, or my hip, or lifting himself up, against the warm skin of my tummy and chuckling as I gasped or jumped in shock.

By now, my breathing had deepened and I was rolling my hips, looking for friction and frustrated by the continuing presence of his underwear.  It was evident from the firmness of his cock against my thigh that he appreciated my attempts, but he wouldn’t give in until he was ready.  Sucking the last sugary bit from my chest, his hands came up to my face, and he untied the blindfold.  I blinked, adjusting to the light and we smiled at each other.

“Enjoying your ice cream?” I asked.

Smiling lasciviously, he said, “I may start taking all my meals this way.”

“That could make things awkward when we have people over.”

“It would certainly answer the question of who does the dishes though.”

Having made himself laugh, he rolled to the side and set the tub on the bed.  The hand that had held it was icy, when he ran his finger along my slit.  I inhaled sharply as he pushed that finger into my folds, stroking and teasing until it heated inside me.  He pulled his hand away, sticking his finger straight into the container and I shook my head.

“Ben,” I said, warningly, “don’t.

“Oh, I’m going to.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Relax.  I’m not going to get any _in_ you.  And anyway,” he swirled his finger in the ice cream and scooped up a glob, “what are you going to do to stop me?”

There was nothing I could do.  Watching my face, delighted by my reaction, he smeared the sticky stuff onto my mound and the heat of my body caused it to soften and begin to drip, slowly, lower.  He covered me with his mouth, sucking me clean and my toes curled as I strained against my ties.  He’d keep his hand wrapped around the tub until it was freezing, then push into my heat, fucking me with his frosty fingers until I was half-mad with desire.

The cold/hot sensation of his mouth on my clit and his heavy breathing, his fingers going from icy to warm as he slid them in and out of me and the way he ground his cock against my calf was enough to put me over the top, and I came, bucking up into his hand.

“Oh my god,” I groaned, “that was fantastic.”

“See?” His fingers continued their slow stroking, “Patience is a virtue.”

I giggled, “There was absolutely nothing virtuous about what you just did.”

“I suppose not, but as long as you liked it…”

“Like is not a strong enough word.  You’re so good to me.”

He nuzzled my stomach, “You deserve it, even if you are an overly eager and wanton little tart.”

“Yeah, I am.  Could you untie me now?  I’d like to return the favour.”

“No, I don’t think so.  I’m not finished my ice cream.”

He ended up eating most of the container, smearing it everywhere, licking it up, his fingers and tongue working me over and by the time he was done, I’d come twice, was on the verge of a third and was a sweaty, twitching, overstimulated wreck. 

Sounding more than a little annoyed, he said, “Well, shit.  It’s all gone.”

Hopping off the bed, he tossed the container into the bin and I went limp, praying he wasn’t going to get the other one from the freezer.  He went into the bathroom to wash and I turned my head, seeing him standing in the doorway, drying his hands.  I was still breathing hard.

“I really do think it’s your turn.  Can I get up?”

“Are you in pain?”

“I’ve come twice.  Pain is the last thing I’m feeling.”

“In that case, no, you can’t get up.”

I raised my head, “Why not?”

“Because, as much as I’m flattered by your impatience, I’m not quite ready to give into it yet.  Where’s your vibrator?” He asked, the front of his boxers bouncing as he walked across the room, “My drawer or yours?”

“I don’t want the vibrator, I want you.”

“I know.  But what I want, is to watch you come again, so let’s do that first, shall we?”

I groaned, “I’m already so sensitive, I don’t know if I can.”

“We’ll see.”

He checked his drawer, then mine, finding what he was searching for and triumphantly brandishing the penis-shaped toy like a sword.  When I rolled my eyes, he grinned and then, as he was about to close the drawer, something caught his eye.

“What’s this?” He asked, holding up a black wooden box about the size of a hard-cover book.

I bit my lip, “Uh…nothing.”

“Well, that’s clearly not true.  I’m holding it in my hand so it’s definitely something and you’re blushing to your hairline, so it’s definitely something interesting.  Is it a secret?”

I huffed, “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“For me?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

He looked puzzled, “May I open it?”

“Oh, go ahead.”

He thumbed the little metal latch on the side and I watched his face bloom from curious to shocked, and settle at amused.

“You’ve bought butt plugs!”

He jumped onto the bed next to me, gleefully lifting the largest of the five out of the box and holding it in front of my face.  He turned it in his fingers, the light from the lamp gleaming off the stainless-steel surface.

“My goodness, they’re not messing around with this one, are they?  I imagine that’d be a bit uncomfortable.”

“Good thing it’s not for you.” I smiled and batted my eyelashes, “But I bought the set because I did figure you could manage the smallest one.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“At least to start with.”

Blinking rapidly as he processed this information, he said, “I don’t know when I’ve ever been happier to see you tied up.”

“Nobody’s forcing you to try it, but I would like you to think about it.  The small one is barely bigger than my finger.”  I grinned and twisted my wrist in its binding, showing him which finger I meant.

He laughed, “No need to flip me off.  I do have to ask, why would you think I’d want to try it?”

“You react very positively to me massaging your perineum.  It’s possible bit of direct stimulation might be something you’d like.”

“Anything is possible.” His eyes narrowed and the corner of his mouth curved up, “If I promise to consider it, can I use one of these on you now?”

“Ben, I’m tied to the bed.  I’m hardly in a position to argue.”

“My darling girl, you can always say no.”

I considered it and said, “In that case, no.  Not tonight.  I’m not sure I could take it, after what you’ve already put me through.”

“It’s just as well,” he smiled and set the box back in the drawer, “this way I won’t have to be worrying you’ll get a hand free and surprise me.”

“I bought the damned things, they’re going to get used at some point.  It’s just that they’re metal, and I don’t want you getting them within a mile of any fucking ice cream.”

Laughing, he lay down next to me.  I’d barely had a chance to get my breath back, but his full, soft lips were on mine, then his mouth moved to my neck and, beginning to rev up again, I moaned.  His eyes twinkling with amusement, he ran his hand down my body.

“You’re all sticky.”

“I’m all horny too.”

“Good, makes my job so much easier.”

We kissed, languid and loving and he still tasted sweet.  He was more impatient than he’d let on and he wasted no time, his hand between my thighs again, fingers on me, in me.  He gently scraped his thumbnail up and down over my clit and it was both too much and not quite enough at the same time.  I sighed into his mouth, tilting my hips into his hand.

“I’m going to make you come again.”

My eyes popped open and I watched the top of his head as he licked and nibbled his way lower, pausing to kiss the insides of my thighs, and he reached for the vibrator.  He buried his face in my pussy, tonguing my clit and rubbing the blunt tip of the vibrator in circles, gently pushing it against my entrance, withdrawing, pushing again.

“Do you like that?”

“Keep going, don’t stop.”

He did exactly as I asked, slurping and sucking at me, his tongue darting and exploring and patiently, persistently, easing the toy inside me.  He was careful and gentle but the more I took, the more direct the pressure of his mouth on my clit, the more trouble I was having staying still.

Ben looked up at me, “Alright?”

“Yeah, I think – mmhf,” I grunted as he pushed deep inside me, “oh yes, that’s good.”

Adjusting the speed, turning it a little higher, he started moving his hand, seeing what worked best.  He aimed the toy down, watching for my reaction, then twisted his wrist, aiming it up against the front wall of my vagina and I nearly leapt out of my skin.  I couldn’t do anything but moan, and shake as he swept the buzzing toy back and forth over that sweet spot.

I’d had my eyes squeezed shut, but opened them when he slid the vibrator out of me and I looked down to see him grinning.  Watching me, he wrapped his arm around my thigh and stuck the end of the vibrator directly onto my clit.  Rubbing up and down, he waited until my muscles tensed and he thumbed the control, intensifying the vibration.  My hips began to rock to the rhythm of his hand and he stayed with me, focused entirely on doing whatever I needed.  His wet tongue slipped along the delicate skin where my abdomen met my thigh and I twisted my hands into my restraints, gripping tightly.

“Oh god, oh god, Ben, I’m close.”

The vibrator went faster and he pushed two fingers inside me, his knuckles brushing my folds with every thrust.  I wouldn’t have thought it possible at this point to have an orgasm so intense, but it felt like it started in my fingertips and slowly unraveled inward, fiery and sharp and I strained against my ties, wailing, my whole body in spasm.  I fell back, nearly sobbing with relief when Ben turned the buzzing toy off and tossed it aside.  He sat up, finally shucking his boxers, freeing his huge cock and crawled up my body, his mouth coming down on mine, rough and demanding and I felt light-headed with warring sensations.  I was entirely too sensitive to be touched and gasped, trying to sink into the mattress as he shoved his hips forward, grinding his rock-hard length onto my clitoris.  His weight dropped, hands moving under me to grasp my butt and pull me against him until I was trapped beneath his body.  I writhed, whimpering, trying to get away but his grip tightened and his breath was hot on my neck, his voice deep and gravelly.

“Do you need a break?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to untie you?”

“Yes.” I whispered.

“No.” He said quietly, “You’ll stay just as you are because I’m not finished with you.”

He sucked my neck and I felt his teeth.  An involuntary moan left my throat and I shuddered, exhilarated.  It was a miracle he’d managed to hold out so long, his entire focus on giving me pleasure.  If I’d asked him to wait, he would have, but it didn’t seem fair.  More to the point, he was entirely irresistible to me and no matter how raw, how tender I was, I wanted him.  He lifted me up, getting my hips to the right angle and shoved inside me with a grunt of deep satisfaction.  I cried out, and he paused, but only for a moment.

“Please, can I have my hands free?  I need to touch you.”

He stared into my eyes, and relented.  The way he had to reach for my wrists pushed his cock even further inside me and I gritted my teeth, stretched tight around his fat girth and I groaned, already sated but still, craving more.

My hands came free and I flexed them, then wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders, smiling up at him.

“Better?”

I nodded.

“Good.  Because now it’s my turn, and I’m going to fuck another orgasm out of you.”

Looking into his eyes, my stomach flipped.  I felt a gush of heat, and fluid trickled from my pussy.  He rose up, holding himself with his arms straight and he was through being careful.  He pounded his cock into me again and again until he was shaking, sweat glistening along his hairline.  He slowed and lay down, holding me tight, his hips swirling in a figure eight pattern, his pubic hair rough on my stinging clit when he buried himself to the root.  I held on for dear life, wordless, moaning and moving with him, our mouths locked in a kiss so intense it was like we were breathing for each other.  My body burned for him, I ached for his release, needing him to feel some measure of the satisfaction he gave me.

I managed to wriggle lower on the bed, was just able to bend my knees and I planted my feet, driving my hips up to meet his.  He moaned, long and low, helpless, and the vulnerability of it went straight to my heart.  I slid my arms around his waist, my fingers digging into the flexing muscles of his ass, and lost myself in the slippery-wet slide of his cock as I pulled him into me.  My eyes filled with tears.  I was trembling, on the knife’s edge and when I felt him thicken, felt the glorious hot pulsing as he came inside me, gasping at the intensity of his release, it carried me over and we fell as one.

It was ages before either of us could move.  Slowly, our breathing evened out and Ben lifted his head from my shoulder.

“You magnificent bastard.” I croaked.

Looking very pleased with himself, he tried to rise onto his elbow.  We were stuck together, glued with sugar and I laughed as he lifted up, wincing audibly as his chest hair came free of my skin.

“Gross.” I said.

“It is, a bit.” He admitted. “The one and only downside to eating ice cream in bed.  I’ll untie your legs and we can go have a wash.”

“Nope.  There’s no way I can walk.  I’m legless with contentment.”

“I’ll bring a flannel, shall I?”

“Yes, please.”

He freed my ankles, took the sticky towel out from under me, and once he’d cleaned himself up, washed me from head to toe with warm cloths.  When he was done, he tucked the blankets around me and set about tidying the mess we’d made, discovering ice cream stains on two of the ties and chucking them in the garbage.  He turned the thermostat down, and got back into bed, plumping his pillow and scooping me into his arms.  I rolled onto my stomach and stretched up for a kiss, my fingers stroking his throat.

“You look different when you’re on your back.” I said.

“Different how?”

“More like when I first met you.  Thinner, and your cheekbones look higher.  When you’re upright, or on top of me, your face is fuller now, since you’re heavier.”

“I think this is the largest I’ve ever been.  The other times I’ve put on muscle for a role, I was much leaner and this time I actually feel sort of bulky.  None of my jeans fit properly.”

“I beg to differ.  They fit just fine.”

He laughed and after a minute he asked if I was happy.

“I’m beyond happy.  I’m with you and all is right with the world.”

“I don’t want to ruin your good mood, but there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Go ahead.  I’m listening.”

He looked to the ceiling, “You’re going to be annoyed with me, I think.”

“Doesn’t matter.  I’m far too satisfied to shout at you.”

It earned me the briefest of smiles, then his chin dropped so he could look at me, “Not sure that’s going to stop you.”

I hesitated, “O.K.  That’s not making it better.  What’s going on?”

“You know you asked why I’d phoned Louise last night?”

I nodded, “Yeah.  I couldn’t imagine why you’d have thought she’d be able to find me.”

“It wasn’t that I thought she’d know where you were, but by that point, I couldn’t even think straight and I was imaging all sorts of crazy…I was imagining the worst.” He bit his lip, as though he was buying time and took another deep breath,

“Being recognized for my work is a wonderful thing, having fans who appreciate what I do.  But celebrity has its downsides too, as you know, like the loss of anonymity.  Probably everyone who becomes famous has some people who, for whatever reason, cross the line between fan and fanatic.  It goes beyond liking the work or finding you attractive, or losing their shit if they run into you on the street.  It goes beyond normal.”

I took his hand and threaded my fingers with his, “I don’t know why you’d think I’d be annoyed with you.  It’s not like you have any control over what other people do.”

“That’s true,” he nodded, “but I haven’t gotten to the bad part yet.”  He paused and took a deep breath, “A couple of months ago, a woman broke into Tom’s house.”

“What?”

“Luckily, it happened when he was away or it could have been much worse.  She only got caught because she tripped the silent alarm getting through the window or he might never have known she’d been there.  The security company called the police and when they arrived, they found her hiding in the bathroom.”

“What was she doing?”

“Snooping, I assume.  Going through his things.  A script he’d left on his bedside table and some letters she’d found in a drawer were in her purse.”

“Fucking hell, that is creepy.  It makes me glad we have the video system for the door, and none of our windows are on the ground floor, but what does that have to do with Louise?”

“Her office is my public mailing address.  People send all sorts of things to me, letters, gifts, invitations, and most are perfectly harmless.  But some aren’t.  There are a few, not many,” he held up a hand, seeing my concern, “but a few, who have written things that might be construed as threats.”

I was horrified, “These people have threatened you?”

Nodding slowly, he squeezed my hand again, “And said things that, last night, made me concerned for your safety.”

“Me?”  A chill ran down my back.

“There’s not been anything overtly directed at you, or I absolutely would have told you before now, but in my panic, it was what came to mind.  Louise does keep a file of the ones she thinks should be taken seriously, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case they escalate, and we need to get the police involved.”

I sat up, my voice hardening, “Define ‘escalate’.”

“Attempting to make contact through friends who are on social media.  Repeatedly showing up where I’m filming, or at the theatre and trying to talk their way in.” He broke eye contact, “Hanging around on our street or taking pictures of the house.”

“Wait – the house?  How would these people know our address?”

He shrugged, “I wasn’t very well known when I bought the first flat, or the second, so it never occurred to me that anyone would go looking for my personal information.  I used to be a little naïve about sharing things.  Something as simple as mentioning the name of a pub I like in an interview and next time I’m there, they’re telling me people have been in looking for me.  Or,” he put his hand on my leg, “someone snaps a picture of us outside the café and posts it online.  Once it’s on the internet, it’s nearly impossible to claw it back and now people know that’s somewhere we go.”

Ben was watching me, waiting for a reaction, but I was still trying to process all he’d told me.

“This is what got me so worked up last night,” he went on, “why I went off the rails and phoned everyone you know.  I was so relieved you’d been at work the whole time and then this morning, when I was on my way to rehearsal, I remembered that bloody article, the one that came out when we first started seeing each other and mentioned where you work.”

“Which I can’t do anything about because making your business easy to find is kind of basic to success.”

“Yeah, I know.  Anyway, Louise and I had already discussed safety.  I have a guy that I like who’s traveled with me to a few bigger events and we’re going to bring him back on for the run of the play, to be there when I’m doing stage door, and the firm he works for of is taking care of security for our wedding as well.  But, after last night, we both think it might be a good idea to have someone come in and do an assessment of your office.”

I felt a little ill, queasy and angry at the thought of anyone meaning Ben harm and it made sense that he should have someone looking out for him, but I wasn’t sure what he meant about my office, and said so.

He elaborated, “Do you have an alarm system?  Cameras?”

“No.  There are bars on the door for locking up, but it’s a nice area and half the time, we don’t even use them.  I’m also not so sure how I feel about having cctv in the office, or what Myra would think.”

“I’m only asking you to consider it, and to let these guys come in and take a look.  You can always turn the cameras off during regular hours, or only have them on the doors, but I really would feel better if there was an alarm you could set, especially if you’re working late and there on your own.”

Looking into his eyes, I could see his unease, “If you think it’s necessary - if Louise thinks it’s necessary - then set it up.  It can’t hurt to have them come in for a look, and if nothing else, we’ll see if there are any weak points we need to look after.”

I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest.  It wasn’t just that he could light up a room with his smile, but when it was me who made him smile that way, it made me feel like the most special person in the world.

“Thank you, my love.”

I lay back down, cozy and safe in his arms, “You’re welcome.  But just so you know, if we end up installing anything, it’s not coming out of my budget.  You’re paying for it.”

I could hear him grinning as he answered, “Of course.”

“Stupid movie star and his drama.” I muttered.

“Oy, watch it.  Your stupid movie star loves you.”

I yawned and said, “By the way, I double checked today, and Leah, Jem and Alice are definitely coming on Wednesday.”

“You’re all on the list already, and I’m not going to start doing stage door until after previews, so we can meet after the show and have a drink.”

“Won’t you have to stay after, for Feargal to give his notes?”

“No, we’ll do that prior to the next day’s show so it’s fresh in our minds for that night’s performance.  For the first week, I’ll have to be at the theatre a bit earlier than usual.”

“It’s going to be weird, not having you around in the evenings.  I’ve gotten used to you being there, and I’ll miss you.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Ben, if I were any fonder of you, we’d never leave the house.”


End file.
